


Deep Black Space

by TheLateNightStoryTeller



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Daisy and May will also show up, Established Relationship, F/M, Other notable characters include Ward and Raina, Plague outbreak, Science Fiction, Trip is alive and makes an appearance :), alien monster, futuristic AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-05-22 17:26:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6088218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLateNightStoryTeller/pseuds/TheLateNightStoryTeller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometime in the future, an emerging virus threatens the global population and virologist Jemma Simmons is sent on a two week assignment to an infected town for answers. Forever changed by the experience, she returns more determined than ever to eliminate the virus... whatever the cost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. So Kiss Me and Smile for Me/ Hold Me Like You'll Never Let Me Go

The sun was just peeking over the horizon as they sped down the empty highway, dark road surrounded on either side by bushy early summer trees. The birds would be waking up, filling the dawn with their overlapping chorus, and Jemma still had dewdrops on her shoes from cutting across the grass in front of their building. She watched it, glimmering in a slanted golden ray, clenching her jaw as she listened to what Fitz was saying beside her. A song was playing on the radio, the drumbeat pounding in time with her head.

"I just don't see why they need you on site," he was muttering. He kept his eyes on the road although his mind was clearly someplace else. "They could send samples back-"

"That would take too long," she protested edgily.

He blew a breath between his teeth, gripping the wheel. "I'm sure someone else could send you the analysis-"

"Someone else could muck it up," she countered.

She watched him from the corner of her eye, prickling at the slight shake of his head, the deepening of his frown.

"I just don't see why-"

Her eyes flared as she whipped around to face him. "No, that's the problem Fitz, _you don't see-_ " she snapped.

"-why you need to be putting yourself in so much danger-"

"Because it's _my_ job. _I'm_ the one who knows how to do it, not you, not some half trained kid already frightened out of their mind-"

"-you aren't even bringing your own hazmat suit-"

"-this is our exit-"

"- how do you know they won't be running out of the proper safety equipment-"

"-you're going to miss it-"

"-And what if their suits aren't-"

"Fitz you're missing the exit!"

The car lurched to the right, Fitz muttering curses under his breath, and she was glad there was no traffic that morning because she was sure if there was he'd have cut someone off.

She leaned back in her seat, shaking her head and they spent the next couple minutes stewing silently as a cheerful woman chirped on about a sunny weekend. Then the story changed and the same woman suddenly sounded entirely different.

_In other news, residents of Westfield are lining up around the quarantine barriers, families begging military officials for safe passage out._

Fitz's expression darkened, the air between them thinning until she had to press herself up against the door to stop from feeling so exposed.

_Safe housing is being provided as they await test results, but so far no one has been confirmed free of the virus to be let out. Meanwhile ailing residents are urged to report to the Central Hospital to receive care. Doctors and scientists are working around the clock, but the death toll has already reached eighty five._

Jemma punched the dial to turn it off, unable to stand the mounting tension any longer, and curled herself into the passenger side window.

"Do you think if I can't hear it I won't know it's happening," Fitz questioned dryly.

Anger burned up her throat. "Did you think I _wasn't_ listening to the radio every time you were called out?" she said icily. "But I let you go didn't I? I didn't complain-"

"I actually remember quite a bit of complaining," he objected stubbornly.

"But I never tried to talk you out of it," she insisted, refusing to give him an inch. "For six years you've worked for the bomb squad. For six years _I_ was the one left wondering if you were going to come home or if you… if…"

He mimed an explosion with the hand closest to her, complete with the sound effects, and her eyes narrowed.

"It isn't funny."

"I wasn't joking. And we weren't even living together for the whole six years," he criticized. "You only figured out you-"

" _We_ only figured out-" she corrected automatically.

"Yeah fine, _we,_ " he conceded with a huff. "We only realized what we wanted two years ago."

She scoffed. "Oh please, as if that mattered. I still wanted you to come home whether you were sleeping with me or not. And don't you dare pretend that makes what you do any different from what I'm doing now."

They'd reached the airport, Fitz shifting his attention to steering the vehicle as he wove his way into the parking lot. The airport wasn't as crowded these days as it used to be, but the early morning flights still drew in a decent flock of drivers confused by the overcomplicated parking scheme.

"Just drop me off in front of the door," she muttered. "I'm already running late."

He did as she'd asked and she jammed in the button to release her belt, eyes glued to the window until her hand was on the door handle and she felt his gentle fingers curl around her wrist.

"Don't leave like this," he begged. "Jemma I'm sorry I… I just…" His breath hitched and when she turned, snared by the wobble in his voice, he was looking at her with those eyes that could melt through a glacier. They flickered away when she met them, moistening his eyelashes, and he seemed to have sunk into himself. "I'm just scared," he whispered. "I'm not… I don't think I can I live in a world that doesn't…" His mouth snapped shut and he stared down at their hands, miserable.

It had him terrified, she realized, that she could die out there. After the long week she'd spent battling her own fear, she hadn't realized how much his had consumed him. He hadn't said a thing until today, not one word, but now she was leaving and it was _real_ and maybe this truly was the last time they'd be gifted with each other's presence.

Thawed now, she found her heart ached more than her head did, and she pushed up on his wrist with her palm, twisting her hand around his to hold onto it. "So am I," she told him. "But I'm far more frightened of what's going to happen if I don't do anything." Her mouth tugged up in a small smile. "Does that sound familiar?"

He smiled back sheepishly. "I said that."

"You did," she whispered. Her other hand came up towards her chest, worrying between her fingers the dulled metal that hung above her heart on a silver chain, metal that had once been deeply embedded in Kevlar.

"They're going to be lucky to have you," he said earnestly, gliding his thumb over the tops of her knuckles. "But… " A shadow passed over him and his smile faltered, fingers gripping her hand tightly. "Come back to me Jemma."

It was his turn to parrot her, repeating her well worn phrase that had sent him off on dozens of missions. They'd known her turn was coming, that with the spread of the new virus the country's leading expert in virology was going to be called to work in the field soon enough, but they hadn't expected how fast things had escalated. They hadn't expected quarantine zones to pop up so quickly, for the death toll to rise into the hundreds before spring turned to summer. She understood his fear, it was her fear too, but she also needed his courage to bring with her on the long flight across the country.

Her hand pulled his over the shrapnel, sandwiching it against her heart. "Tell me again," she asked softly, "what your grandmother told you about being brave."

She could lose herself in the ocean that stared back at her, be lost beneath its waves for the rest of her life and she'd still never be able to fathom the power that it held over her. He tucked a stray lock of hair back into place behind her ear and she leaned into his palm, unable to look away.

"Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that something else is more important than fear," he said. It sounded like a song, the way he spoke.

Her body relaxed and she slid her fingers through his hair, pushing her forehead into his and closing her eyes. Time stilled for them as they drank each other in, as he took a piece of her to know she'd be OK and she took part of him so that she'd remember what home felt like. Then his head tilted up, their lips melding together to steal a few more precious seconds and when they pulled away, the exchange completed, both of them were smiling.

"I'll see you in two weeks," she promised.

/-/-/ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Notapepper for betaing this chapter :D
> 
> Also a big thanks to memorizingthedigitsofpi for making me a great poster for this story :D
> 
> She is going to Westfield in reference an early fic I did called Welcome to Westfield which is a reference to the Fringe episode of the same title. It's a reference in a reference
> 
> I think I'm going to try to name the chapters after song lyrics. Could be fun. And there are so many lyrics how hard could it be?... I bet you know this one :P


	2. I Was Disappearing in Plain Sight/Heaven Help me, I Need to Make it Right

_**Six Weeks Later** _

The creature's yowls ricocheted off the grey walls of the storage bay, piercing jolts of sound that cut like knives into Jemma's ears.

Ward was already next to its containment unit, peeking in the eight by eight-foot metal box through one of the air slits. His eyes glinted with curiosity and he seemed amused by the thing in front of him, the way a young boy looked in on a trapped animal. Only this wasn't an animal.

Animals were terrestrial. Animals evolved on _Earth._

Not far from the unit, another man eyed the scene, tired and wary beneath a grey blanket. His hair was matted and his beard had grown out just enough to cover the skin it grew from. Trip, their on-site medical doctor, was taking his blood pressure as he spoke with him.

They didn't have much information so far. The shuttle had landed on schedule, hitting the tarmac at 06:00 hours, but no one had heard from it in almost a week. Its crew had established contact with ground control upon awaking from hibernation, but only a couple of hours later there'd been radio silence that stretched on until the landing.

What they did know was that the rest of the crew was dead, that the thing inside the crate had torn them to pieces and would have done the same to the man Trip was questioning except that he'd been quick enough to trap it in the containment unit. He'd been through so much, Jemma could only guess at the horrors he'd witnessed in the past week aboard that shuttle, and she wished she could give him his space, let Trip check him out and send him home to his family, but she'd seen horrors too. The difference was, the terrible things she'd seen continued on even after she came home safely, and she needed what he knew so that she could begin to put an end to them.

The man looked up as she approached, smiling bitterly but not unfriendly. "You're Dr. Simmons?" he guessed.

She nodded sadly, smiling back. "I'm very sorry to bother you but I was wondering if you could spare a moment?"

"He's been through a lot Dr. Simmons," Trip warned. He undid the cuff around the man's arm, the rip of Velcro enough to send the creature in the unit into another frenzy of shrill screeches.

The man ignored it but she saw Trip wince. "Doesn't look like you'll need to go to the hospital," he told him. "But take it easy over the next few days." He flashed him one of his sunshine smiles, the kind Jemma knew could often put his patients at ease. "And wait of couple of weeks before you hit the gym again."

"Thanks," the man mumbled gratefully. His attention shifted back to Jemma. "You want to know if we got the package?"

Concerned as he was for his patient, that caught Trip's attention too, and he exchanged a meaningful glance with Jemma, listening intently.

"Did you, Mr…?" Her cheeks flushed, embarrassed at not knowing his name.

"Daniels," he told her, unperturbed by her mistake. "Will Daniels. Please just call me Will. And we got the package."

Her breath caught in her chest, hunger clawing at her belly. "You… thank you! You have no idea how much…" He raised an eyebrow, amused, and she couldn't help but admire how brave he was being, still allowing himself a sense of humour in all this. "Well I'm sure you do, being on the crew that went to retrieve it. You must have been given directives as to what you were looking for and…" She trailed off, realizing that she was rambling. "Where is it?"

"It's right here," he answered. She frowned, confused and he nodded his head towards the containment unit just in time for another shriek to split the air.

The blood from her face drained down to her toes, understanding smacking her like cold water.

"Oh." Was all she could manage to say.

She glided towards it as if she were under a trance, zipping through the next possible steps, trying to figure out how to proceed.

Ward made the first move, pulling his gun out from it's holster and pointing it towards the slit. With a jolt, she realized he was planning on killing it.

"Wait!" she shouted. "NO!"

When he ignored her, she lunged forward, her only thought to preserve the thing inside that unit.

His gun went off as she collided with him, popping her ears with a loud _bang_ and the creature howled in pain, bashing itself against the metal sides as it withered in agony.

Ward stumbled back under her weight, catching her and pushing her roughly to the floor. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he spat.

Seeing red, she glared up at him, gulping in ragged breaths as she waited for her ears to stop ringing. "What… what are _you_ doing?!" she choked back. "Who told you to kill it?"

"I thought kill the man eating monster, went without orders," he barked back.

"Idiot!" she spat. "We need it alive!" She pushed herself up, peering in through one of the slits to see that it has stopped struggling and was now laying still on it's side. Its jerking hands and feet were the only indication that it was still alive. Whitish-green liquid was smeared all across the containment unit, splattered on the walls, and leaking out of the creature's abdomen. "Open the door." She ordered.

"I'm not doing that," he objected.

Anger flared in her chest and she spun around, eyes ablaze. "I said open the bloody door! I need to save it."

"You're crazy," he muttered darkly. He waved his gun at the hole again and her shoulders tensed. "That thing killed most of the crew, we need to destroy it."

"That _thing_ is what we were looking for," she hissed.

Ward narrowed his eyes. "Great. Just great. Now I'm going to have to call up top."

His annoyance disgusted her. How could he be so fickle when there were so many lives at stake? She listened as he phoned the facility's director, explaining what had happened aboard the shuttle, what Jemma wanted him to let her do.

"She says it's what we've been looking for," he grumbled. He listened to the reply and turned towards the creature, looking it over. "No… no I got it pretty good. Yeah it's alive right now… OK… OK.. Will do."

A smug smile crawled up his face. "We're destroying it," he announced triumphantly. "Boss's orders," he defended when she opened her mouth to protest. His smile widened in cruel amusement. "But I'll let you do the honours."

Jemma shook her head, feeling sick. "No… Ward please, we _need it_."

"You can take samples-"

"It won't be enough!" she objected loudly. "You can't…"

Something dangerous flashed over him and he pushed forward, leaning down to meet her eyes.

"You'll do as you're told Dr. Simmons," he warned. He jabbed her shoulder and she had to resist the urge to smack his hand away. "I don't think even you can get away with another display of insubordination like the one you showed in Westfield."

Her rage threatened to blow through her chest. "Don't you ever talk to me about Westfield," she seethed.

He snorted, unimpressed and roughly bumped her shoulder as he strode past. "Just do what you're told for once," he grunted.

The storm in her head was so loud that she didn't hear Will as he approached, didn't notice him peering into the box until his voice startled her back.

"I spent three days listening to that thing howl at me," he muttered. "Three days keeping it alive when all I wanted to do was kill it, and this is where it got us."

She shook her head, eyes burning. "I'm so sorry."

He glanced at her, shoulders sagging in defeat. "This isn't your fault." His gaze returned to the creature and he shook his head, as disgusted as she was. "And it's not me I'm worried about."

Neither of them finished the thought but they didn't need too. They both knew.

_It's everyone else._

_/-/-/_

_**Two Weeks Later** _

It was close to midnight when the front door creaked open and a yawning Jemma tiptoed into their flat. Fitz had been half asleep before he'd heard the click of the lock, dozing off during a commercial break as he watched some old action movie he hadn't really been paying attention to. He wasn't even sure why the main character was being chased at the moment, something about money he thought.

Now he sat up straight, pawing at his eyes while the blanket fell into a bunch on his lap. "Long day?" he guessed, taking in the wisps of hair that were falling out of her ponytail and the dark circles hugging her eyes.

"Oh Fitz, you didn't need to wait for me," she told him, as warm as she was exhausted. "I told you I'd be home late."

He shrugged, watching her the way an astronomer would watch the stars. "I missed you."

Smiling, she set her bag down on the table and, after neatly placing her shoes onto the rack along the wall, she dragged herself over to plop down beside him. His arms opened for her to fall into them and she snuggled against his chest. Her eyes shut when he pulled the blanket back over them, a contented sigh passing out of her like warm breeze.

"Did you want to watch the end?" she murmured. She sounded half asleep already and he was glad she couldn't see his face as he leaned down to kiss her hair.

He was worried about her. This wasn't the first night she'd come home dead on her feet and she'd been less and less talkative about what she was staying so late for. She'd been less chatty in general since she'd returned six weeks ago. Once she'd bubbled on and on about her work, filling the room with her excited chirping the way birds filled the morning sky, but since Westfield, she'd lost her song.

She'd told him very little about what had actually happened, and the little she'd told him had been said in a hospital, their hands pressed against the glass of the isolation room, instinctively reaching for each other through the barrier. He'd seen in her eyes, how deeply the things she'd witnessed had seared into her, he'd heard it in the thickness of her trembling voice as she'd whispered them to him. He remembered how his heart had broken when he'd heard her cry out in her sleep, unable to go to her because her tests hadn't come back yet and he was still locked out of her room.

She was different, the woman who'd returned to him. She'd come back, just as she'd promised but the experience had left a scar he wasn't sure was ever going to heal. And he was trying, but he didn't know how to help her. She didn't want to talk to him, or Dr. Garner when he'd suggested she set up an appointment. She only wanted to work, to bury herself in it, using it to lose herself when once it had been what connected her to the world.

He loved her, forever, whoever she became, but she was in pain and it was tearing him apart that he didn't know how to fix it.

"I'm not actually sure I know what's happening," he admitted. "I think that the man is angry at the other man but…" He trailed off and she chuckled at him, her smiling reaching under her eyelids.

"I think we both need to go to bed," she mused, lifting her head to nuzzle her nose over the stubble on his chin.

"We do," he agreed. He lifted his arms to giver her a gentle squeeze but she winced when he put pressure above her elbow, sucking in a breath through her teeth, and he pulled back, worriedly looking her over. "Jemma?"

Her eyes were open now, alert, and she shook her head, wiggling away as she rose to her feet.

"It's… it's nothing, I… just a bump."

She was lying, he'd spotted the patch of red soaking through her shirt as she stood and _this_ wasn't something he was going to let go.

"You're bleeding," he told her. He saw her shoulders grow rigid as he stepped over to stand behind her, inspecting the alarmingly large puddle of blood draining into her sleeve. "What happened? You need to… do we need to go to the hospital?"

"No!" She said quickly. She spun around, shaking her head back and forth. "No I don't… I can take care of it here."

"Let me see," he begged. Maybe it wasn't as bad as it looked.

She bit her lip and he could tell that she wished he hadn't noticed but she nodded, accepting his request, and pulled the thin grey shirt over her head, wincing again as she eased the left sleeve off.

It was worse. Four cuts, not one, evenly spaced and rimmed with inflamed red skin that made him wince at the sight of it.

"Jemma…" he breathed. "What have you been doing?"

"Fitz I'm fine," she insisted.

"Have you cleaned them?" he fussed, craning his head to see. They weren't too deep but they were deep enough and the blood dripping out over the edges of them was making the room spin.

"I was going to do that before we went to bed… when…"

"When I wasn't in the room," he finished irritably. She broke eye contact and he bit his cheek at his tone. Getting upset with her wasn't going to help but it hurt that she'd decided to keep it from him. They didn't lie to each other, not before anyway.

Jemma held her injured arm against her side, frowning. "I didn't want you to worry," she defended. "I know how worn down you've been with all the extra work you've been getting lately…"

There was the other thing they couldn't talk about. With the virus spreading more and more rapidly each day, people were growing violent. One group in particular blamed the hospitals for 'hiding the cure', as if blowing up doctors, nurses and patients was going to make this stop.

"I don't care how tired I am," he objected, his arms flying out in exasperation. "If you're hurt I want you to _tell_ me. I can't…" He wanted to be strong for her, he really did but he couldn't stop his voice from faltering. "… I can't help you if you're lying to me."

Her eyes grew bright at that last part and she cast her gaze towards her feet, blowing a sharp breath out her nose. "I don't know how to tell you," she squeaked. "I don't know how to tell anyone."

She was so lost, his poor darling, how could be angry at her for that? His cheeks burned with shame and he stepped towards her, gently lifting her chin between his hands. "Can I help you with that?" he offered, his head tilting towards her arm.

He didn't know what to do about the things she wouldn't tell him, or how to make her stop thinking she was responsible for what happened in Westfield, but he thought that maybe he could at least ease the pain she was feeling in her arm.

Sniffing, she nodded and allowed him to lead her into the little bathroom, sitting herself down on the edge of the tub as he searched through their medicine cabinet.

"I don't know… Do we have to clean it?" he mumbled, reading the back of one of the disinfectant spray before giving it a good shake to ensure the active ingredients weren't all sitting at the bottom.

"We probably should," she said apprehensively. "May I?" She held out her hand for the bottle and he obliged, allowing her to grip onto his hand before, gritting her teeth. She sprayed a light mist over the wound and her face scrunched, fingers constricting his for a few seconds until it passed. "That was unpleasant," she commented, smiling weakly.

Fitz passed his hand over her forehead, clearing the strands of hair before pecking a kiss onto the warm skin. "I'll get you some gauze," he murmured. He felt her eyes on him as he returned to the medicine cabinet to fetch the neatly labeled box, he felt her dreading the question on the tip of his tongue, but he knew he had to ask, just one more time.

"Jemma what happened to your arm?" he said quietly, kneeling in front of her as he presented the long strip of fabric.

She held her arm out to him, asking him to do it for her, but she didn't speak. Her gaze was locked on his face as he carefully wound the gauze around her wound. She seemed to be searching for something hidden in his expression, and he thought she must have found it because at last she opened her mouth to answer him.

"I did something Fitz," she said, each word hanging like dense smoke between them. "Something I wasn't supposed to but…" He stared back at her, seeing her pleading with him to understand, and he nodded encouragingly for her to go on. "Would you ever steal something that doesn't belong to you, because you know it's the right thing to do?"

He took both of her hands in his, squeezing them gently as he looked up at her. He wanted her to know that, whatever it was, she'd have him at her side for all of it. "What happened Jemma?"

She squeezed back, uncertain. "I think it'd be better if I showed you."

 

/-/-/

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Notapepper for betaing this chapter :D
> 
> The song lyrics are from No Light by Florence and the Machine. 
> 
> The question "Would you ever steal something that doesn't belong to you, because you know it's the right thing to do?" is a differently phrased version of what Walter (Fringe) asks Peter when he steals a mysterious artifact in the first season.
> 
> Also if you're concerned, Will is not a romantic interest for any character in this story. He was just the perfect character to play the role.


	3. 'Cause These Words Are My Diary Screaming Outloud

 

On empty roads they drove back to the research centre where Jemma worked, riding in silence because she wasn't ready to answer any of his questions yet.

Inside, she led him down the staircase rather than taking the elevator. He wondered if that had anything to do with where the security cameras were positioned but he didn't ask. Down they went, past the storage lockers, further underground than he thought the facility went, until they reached a thick metal door which she unlocked with a key on a lanyard she fished out from under her shirt. It surprised him, that the lock wasn't electronic. It was rare to see metal keys these days, especially in government buildings.

He watched her slip it into the slit of the lock, unnerved at how dark it was. The yellow safety lights were on but they were too far down for windows and the usual white fluorescent lights had vanished a couple of levels up.

"Where are we?" he asked. The door wasn't marked, not even with the floor number, but it was burgundy instead of the deep green of all the other doors and, he saw as she pulled it open, much, much thicker.

"This the Maveth Bunker," she mumbled distractedly. She took his hand as they walked in, pulling him forward on hesitant feet.

Those fluorescent lights he'd been missing turned on with a hum, but they didn't make him feel any better. The bunker was a secret, and he wasn't even supposed to know about it except that Jemma had fought for his clearance onto the list of its potential inhabitants. In the case of VPE spreading beyond control, she'd argued that they'd need someone of his expertise, an engineer, in order to not only keep things running but to provide them with the technology- and weapons- to face whatever would be waiting for them on the surface when the cure was finally found. He knew it was still a sore spot between her and her colleagues, especially Ward, that she'd been accused of making an emotional judgement rather than a rational one. He suspected that a part of her _did_ think the decision had been a selfish one, and she tended to steer clear of even mentioning the place because of that.

What was she doing down here now?

They passed through a second set of doors, a second set of physical keys. Then another. Deep quarantine, that's what it was. They had put as many layers as possible between what was supposed to be a safe place, and the contagion on the surface.

At the third door, he hesitated, feet planting themselves firmly in place. "Jemma…"

Her bright eyes met his, pleading with him. "Trust me Fitz. You'll understand soon."

He stared down at her hand, soft and cool to the touch, remembering the cuts on her arms with a prickle of worry. However, years together had taught him that he could trust her, always, about anything, so he passed his thumb the back of her hand and nodded his acceptance.

Then she led him into the laboratory and he saw _it._

Inside an enormous tank of murky water, was the ugliest thing he'd ever seen. It was long and grey and about the size of a sea lion, with a bulbous head that had no eyes but was sliced through with a large, toothy mouth with which it was currently tearing a bulky cod to pieces. The ferocity with which it shook the already mutilated animal made him wince, gut churning. He was so focused on the head- and what it was doing to the fish- that it took him a few seconds to notice it had four arms, all ending in fins. He could see four fingers clearly embedded within them, sprouting wickedly hooked claws which it now used to latch onto its meal, ripping out the spine and tossing it to the side. Its tail was long and thin, snapping excitedly like a whip as it fed.

"Oh good, she's eating," Jemma chirped, pleased by the atrocity in front of her. "Stay there, I'll get her another fish. I'll need to clean the tank again after," she added, tapping on the glass with amusement as she skipped by. It ignored her in favour of continuing to massacre the fish. "Messy girl. I'm glad she's so strong, she had me worried for a bit."

For a full minute, Fitz was rendered speechless. Disoriented by her reaction to the creature, ice caking over him as he put together what it was.

"What. The. Hell…" he managed at last.

Jemma was stepping out of a walk in freezer, three large fish in her arms. She cast him an awkward smile as she pushed the steel door closed. "Fitz, meet Delta Two," she introduced, uncertain now that she'd noticed his unease. "Delta Two," she glanced at the frenzied monster.

"Meet Fitz."

He stared at her with the eyes of an owl, jaw hanging open.

"It's not as bad as you think-" she defended slowly.

"Not as bad?" he choked. "Jemma you told everyone- told _me_ \- you'd destroyed it. You can't… this is…" He rubbed his eyes, his head beginning to throb underneath them.

She placed the fish onto a lab bench, biting her lip as she tucked loose lock of hair behind her ear. "I wasn't technically lying," she told him. "I did destroy the mother. She was so far gone anyway there was no way for me to save her-"

"The mother?" Fitz squeaked. "You mean this is _a baby?!"_

"Well, yes, the mother is much larger." She jerked her head towards the beast. "About three times this size. I have her in the freezer if you'd like to have a look."

He was shaking his head, battling nausea. How could she have _kept_ this thing? She'd told him what it had done to the crew…

"Fitz please, let me explain," she said quickly. "You need to understand. I needed a living specimen. I needed a sample group to-"

"Group?" he deadpanned. "As in more than one."

Jemma wouldn't meet his eyes. "She's pregnant," she mumbled. He sucked in a sharp breath and she snapped her head up, eyes flashing in alarm. "No… no Fitz you don't understand. They're born pregnant, there are no males. The mother produces offspring by parthenogenesis and-"

"This isn't helping me feel better Jemma!" he objected, voice cracking as if he were still a teenager. Not only had she _kept it_ but she was planning on making more, many, many more.

Dozens… maybe hundreds of monsters.

"I don't plan on letting them all mature," she argued, hands up in a plea for him to calm down.

"Why are you letting _any_ of them mature!" he shrieked.

"Because I need them to cure VPE!" she shouted.

His anger sizzled out like a drenched spark. In an instant, all of it made sense. "What do you mean?" he asked.

She sighed, eyes closing as she steeled herself to explain, but a sharp tap on the glass snagged her attention and she craned her neck to glance at the fish defrosting behind her.

"Would you… would you mind if I fed her first?" she asked hesitantly. "It's good that she's asking and I don't want to spoil it."

Asking? As in she knew that Jemma would feed her if she did that? As in she'd _trained_ her like a bloody terrier?

He swallowed a prickly pair, crossing his arms over his chest. "Go ahead," he said quietly.

At his acceptance, her lips curved up in a tiny, hopeful smile, and she scooped up the fish again, hugging them against her with one arm as she pulled the ladder to the tank with the other. The top was about two feet above her head, and there was a thick steel lid held in place with a thick latch. Jemma unlocked it and the creature, _Delta Two_ , stuck her head out the top, tail slashing back and forth like perverted puppy.

"You behave yourself this time," she whispered to her, lifting one of the fish by the tail to be her first offering.

In a flash of pointed teeth, Delta Two clamped her jaws up to the fish's middle, and Fitz was certain he'd almost had a heart attack at how close those fangs had gotten to slicing off Jemma's fingers. He could feel his pulse roaring in his ears while she dumped the other two fish in after it and closed the latch.

"She really is messy," Jemma commented, watching as she tore the first fish to bits. At least it was frozen so there was no liquid to form a cloud around her in the already filthy water. If he'd been subjected to gooey fish guts on top of what he'd already seen, Fitz thought he'd probably have thrown up. "I just changed the water the other day."

"What do you mean she's going to help you cure VPE?" Fitz repeated. His arms were still crossed over his chest and he leaned against the doorframe, unwilling to walk any further into the cursed room.

He noticed Jemma had made herself at home though. Her favourite mug hung by the sink, in the office portion of the room, where the computers were and away from any dangerous chemicals. The beakers, forceps, glass slides, and the rest of the usual equipment were neatly arranged but he recognized her specific system of organization.

Jemma smiled, at last truly in her element, and motioned for him to follow her towards the computers.

After a moment's hesitation, and a suspicious glance back at the tank to ensure that, yes, the latch was in place, Fitz obliged. "Aren't you worried about them monitoring you?" he asked dryly, stopping a few feet away to look over her shoulder.

Her mouth twitched at his tone, smile fading, but she didn't address it. "These computers are separate from the main network," she told him. "From any network actually," she added. "The only thing any of my supervisors see is the research I do on my laptop about VPE, antibodies, tRNA, capsid structures. In essence it's what I'm supposed to be looking at anyway and the specifics are gobbledegook to them."

Fitz grunted to show he'd heard but he wasn't sure what to say to that. This didn't sound like his Jemma, his Jemma who was honest, who followed the rules, and he was beginning to wonder if that part of her been left behind in Westfield too. Maybe he shouldn't be so hard on her, she needed him to be on her side now more than ever, but it still stung that she hadn't told him about any of this earlier. Didn't she trust him?

"Do you remember the samples the first team brought back to the Martian colony from asteroid 613?" she asked, pulling up the sample's summary on the screen. Alien tissue. It contained double stranded DNA, just like animals did, but in place of the base thymine it had uracil- the same as RNA and the DNA of some viruses. It was clearly multicellular, and the cells they'd found were specialized, suggesting they were part of a specific tissue. "Remember the cells showed resistance to VPE? How the virus was unable to invade them? And when we injected the contents of the cells into human cells, the virus was unable to invade them either?"

"You told me about that, yeah," he agreed. His arms were still folded in front of him but he leaned forward, squinting the data on the screen.

She'd been collaborating with the Martians for almost a year now, but when the virus had turned deadly they'd closed their border, prohibiting passage to or from Earth. That was why an Earthling crew had been sent to collect this newest… specimen.

"This is Delta One- the mother's- tissue sample," she told him, tapping the arrow key to move on to the next page.

Fitz's eyebrows rose in surprise. "It's the same." He shook his head. "But.."

"But Delta One is from a different asteroid, yes," Jemma went on excitedly. "Delta One is from 616. They must spread out into space, perhaps it's how they send off their offspring, hoping to land on a favourable planet. Only Delta One landed on an asteroid, so she remained in stasis. In the pod form that … that Mr. Daniels and his crew discovered." Her shoulders fell at ill-fated astronauts, but she took a deep breath, dissipating the fear that had momentarily clouded her bright eyes. "But Fitz don't you see? If I can discover _why_ whatever's in Delta Two's cells prevents healthy cells from being invaded by the virus we can create an antiserum against VPE. This plague could be _over._ "

"But Ward wanted you to kill her?" Fitz questioned, still not entirely convinced.

Her expression soured and she snorted, turning her attention back to the data. "Ward is the king idiot," she muttered. "He's too afraid to take a risk that might end up saving countless lives."

"That thing could kill you," Fitz reminded her.

"And VPE kills _hundreds_ each month," she countered stubbornly. "Soon it'll be more! Do you really think my life is more important than all of theirs?"

He did think that, but he was certain that telling her so wouldn't win him the argument. "She's the one who hurt you," he said instead. He nodded his head towards her arms, eyes softening.

"A hazard of working with any animal," Jemma dismissed. "She wanted the fish, she didn't mean it. She's not aggressive."

Fitz glanced at the shreds of cod suspended in the hazy water, Delta two still snapping them up and raised his eyebrows.

"Not towards humans," Jemma clarified. "And even if she were, so are many other model organisms."

"Yeah but those ones are from Earth," he muttered. "And no one is working on them in a secret lab without anyone knowing where they are."

"You know now," she pointed out. She leaned against the desk, mimicking his pose challengingly. "So what do you think we should do about it?"

' _Stop,_ ' he thought. ' _Kill the damn thing like Ward said. Stop putting yourself in danger like this.'_

He couldn't ask her to do that though, she'd never listen. Besides if he reported her now, not only would she hate him forever, but she'd find a way to start again. And this time he'd never find out where. He wanted her safe, but the only way he could protect her was by helping her.

"I think you need to start telling me whenever you come down here," he decided. "And tell me when you'll be home too, how long you plan to stay. I mean it Jemma if you stay later than you've told me, virus be damned I'm coming down here and-"

The rest of what he had to say was cut off as she flew forward, arms clamping around his neck.

"Thank you," she breathed. "I should have known you'd understand, once I showed you everything." She pushed her cheek against his, deflating in relief. "I can do this Fitz, I can end this plague once and for all. We can have a world free of VPE."

His arms came up to return the embrace and he twisted his head to peck a kiss onto her cheek, less anxious now that she was in arms but still tormented by the prickling concern in his gut.

There was no question that it was selfish, and he'd never admit to it out loud, but the one thing he wanted more than that was to have a world with her in it. If he were asked, right then, to trade her for a cure, he would say no.

"Promise me you'll be careful," he whispered, his breath against her ear and the skin of her cheek warm against his. "And you'll call me-"

"Whenever I come here," she continued softly, sympathetic to his concern. "And I'll tell you when I plan on leaving and leave when I plan. I do plan on coming back to our warm bed at night you know," she mused.

"You'll come back to me?" he asked. It must have been Westfield that had left him so frightened, frightened enough to put his fear into words.

Her arms tightened around him. "I'll always come back to you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Notapepper for betaing this chapter :D
> 
> VPE is a reference to a virus in Fringe. Only in Fringe it stands for Viral Propagated Eclampsia, while here it's Viral Propagated Emphysema (lung damage)
> 
> The lyrics are from the song Breath by Anna Nalick (also called 2 am)


	4. I think it might be fear Of the world and the way it makes you feel afraid

**_Two Weeks Later_  
**

Jemma was already ready for bed and it was only a quarter past eleven, the earliest she'd managed this entire week. As much as she knew there was still work to be done in the lab, the warm little room and the soft pillow supporting her back as she read were absolute bliss.

"So what do you think?" Fitz's question woke her from her head and she glanced up from the glow of her tablet to find him staring expectantly.

"About…?" How long had he been talking? Did he start when he'd plopped the laundry basket onto the bed? Before Tracker had leapt up to lay his, slightly slobbery, labrador head onto her lap?

"You're still working aren't you?" he guessed, a glint of amusement in his eyes she thought might have been there partially to hide his concern. He thought she didn't notice it but she knew he was still worried about her. "When did I lose you?"

"I'm not actually sure when you started talking," she admitted sheepishly.

He tossed a ball of socks at her, playfully scolding, and it rolled down her tablet to land on her lap. Tracker sniffed at it, but left it alone. He was well trained, a bomb sniffer dog that usually lived with Fitz's partner, Hunter, but they had him for the weekend while and he and his ex-wife _re-acquainted_ with each other in Tahiti.

She sighed. "I'm sorry, I know we never see each other as it is, what with the both of us working all the time, but…"

"But people need us," he finished. Setting the now empty basket on the floor, he crawled in beside her, snuggling against her so that she was sandwiched between him and the dog. He gave Tracker a pat on the head as she made herself comfortable, leaning into the crook of his shoulder.

"Actually, it turns out that I need people this time," she mused wearily. "I may need to… involve someone else with Delta Two…"

Fitz scratched his chin, frowning. "Do you think that's wise?"

"It's necessary," she sighed. "I've hit a wall. I found the protein, I've located the gene that encodes it, but…" Her head shook in defeat. "I'm unable to replicate it. I've tried bacterial vectors, but they won't incorporate the alien DNA. Even if they could I'm not sure they have the proper machinery to read it. I'm putting alien biology into something terrestrial, they have no common ancestor, not an ounce of shared history and it's like…" She passed a hand over the top of her head, searching for a comparison. "It's like trying to get a CD player to read a floppy disk. I'm not sure how I can mass produce it. I need help."

"And you think this Dr. Camellia can help?" he asked, glancing at woman who smiled back at them from the tablet.

Someone had drawn an intricate red flower on her lab coat, on the left side where she might place a name tag. Jemma didn't like it when the younger researchers did that, it could obscure their ability to spot possible contaminants, potentially posing a safety hazard, but it wasn't actually against any of the rules.

"Dr. Raina Camellia received a PHD in molecular genetics at nineteen, and has worked in the biotechnology sector for Hydra Incorporated for over a decade," Jemma read. She closed her eyes, pushing her cheek against his chest. "She's perfect, but I…"

"You're not sure if you can trust her," he finished, planting a quick peck on her forehead.

"I'm not sure I have much of a choice Fitz," she mumbled.

He pulled her closer, tightening his sideways embrace, and he didn't need to speak for her to know how concerned he was. This was a big decision, a frightening one. If she were caught she could be fired from her job, or even sent to prison. No one had ever been tried for stealing an alien species before, but she was certain that the penalties would be steep and the thought of risking that by admitting what she'd done to a complete stranger had her stomach tied up in knots.

It wasn't only her life at stake though, it was everyone's, and time was ticking. Each day she wasted, someone else died and ever since Westfield the deaths weren't faceless for her. She still woke up in the middle of the night, cheeks streaked with tears and shaking from head to toe until Fitz woke up too and bundled her up in his arms, cradling her against him. Sometimes it seemed to take ages for her to stop seeing them, pale faces, men and women… children… bodies lined up in rows behind a plastic curtain. And sometimes, on the very bad nights, she saw her. She saw brown eyes, bloodshot and terrified, heard her wheezing breaths, knowing that there was nothing that she could do to stop what was happening to her.

"I'll come with you if you'd like," Fitz offered, his soft voice a lighthouse on rough seas.

"She might think it's strange I'm bringing my boyfriend with me," she pointed out.

"Yeah well I think all of this is pretty strange anyway, don't you?" he mused. His fingers slid down her cheek, pausing at her jawline. "It's your choice Jemma, but if you want me to I'll come… so long as no one's trying to blow up another hospital."

"You shouldn't joke about that," she scolded.

"It's not so much a joke as it is our reality," he reminder her darkly.

Her eyes scrunched and she hid her face against his chest. "Oh God," she muttered. "How did the world end up here Fitz? Two years ago no one knew what VPE was and now..."

"And now you're going to be the one to cure it," he finished firmly.

She smiled, wondering if it were possible to fall even more in love with this man than she already was. Every time she thought she'd hit the bottom he pulled it out from under her and she was soaring down through clouds again.

"What were you saying earlier?" she mumbled into his shirt. Maybe she'd be more comprehensible if she sat up but he was warm and he smelled like fresh laundry.

"Oh… it's nothing…" he dismissed. "I just was wondering if you'd… well it was a bad idea."

She lifted her head, watching his awkward expression. "Tell me."

He shrugged. "I was wondering if you'd like to go out for dinner Friday night."

"You mean a date night?" A smile crept up into her cheeks.

"Yeah," he rubbed the back of his neck bashfully and she noticed fondly that he was blushing. "I know you've been busy… and you're probably tired but…"

"I'd love to," she said. His smile broke into a grin and she kissed his stubble. "We could use a night to ourselves for a change."

Fitz eyed Tracker meaningfully and she giggled at him. "And we'll make sure no one disturbs us when we're home. I'll hide a few treats in his cone."

"I was thinking an Italian restaurant?" he suggested, folding his arms around her when she sank back into him. "The one by the water."

He knew it was her favourite. Just like he probably knew how badly she needed a break. He yawned loudly, his chest expanding beneath her like a balloon and she wondered if he knew how badly _he_ needed a break too.

She nuzzled against him, glad to be home together. "It sounds perfect."

/-/-/

Dr. Camellia was wearing a red flowered dress when she met her at the front entrance of the building on a sunny Friday morning. Jemma introduced herself, thanking her for taking the time to meet her and then waited in silence as she was issued a visitor's pass by the security guard at the front desk. It wasn't Ward today, Jemma had made sure of that.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket as Dr. Camellia was filling out her name, and she anxiously glanced through the notification, shoulders sinking in relief when it was only a new news station picking up the story. SSR News was always behind, Fitz often joked that they were practically living in the past.

Together, she and her guest took the elevator down to B3, where most of the biochemistry labs were, and then ducked down a narrow hallway that led to nearest staircase down. Their footsteps echoed off the sheer stone walls and it wasn't until they'd gone down four more levels, to B7, and reached a thick burgundy door, that Jemma spoke up.

"I trust you'll be discreet?" she checked awkwardly, ears perked and eyes peeled for anyone who might have followed, even though she knew that was unlikely. "I meant what I said over the phone, the people I work for… they…"

"They don't see what needs to be done," Dr. Camellia said calmly. "I understand. I can't believe they wanted you to kill it," she added regretfully. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity and she leaned forward slightly as Jemma pulled out the key to the first door. "What's it like, the alien? She must be beautiful."

Jemma smiled and held the door open for her, nodding for her to proceed through. "She is, like nothing I've ever seen before. She started off aquatic but her gills were reabsorbed about a week ago and now I'm keeping her in a dry environment. Rocks, a few plants and some water. She'll only eat meat though, so it's been quite expensive keeping her fed."

Delta Two was sleeping when they entered the lab, but she perked up at Dr. Camellia's presence, crawling over to the nearest glass wall and tilting her head. She took a deep sniff in through her nostrils but Jemma wasn't sure how much she'd be able to smell with the glass in the way unless her sense of smell was particularly sensitive. It might be, she had no light sensitive structures, smell and hearing were her primary senses and she often took a good wiff of the air when Jemma came in in the morning.

She was doing a little more than taking a wiff now though, this was the first new person she'd encountered since Fitz and this time that had piqued her interest. The head tilt was indicative that she was listening closely, Jemma thought that the tilt unbalanced her ear slits, allowing her to better pinpoint the source of a sound. Owls had ear slits that were built in unevenly for that exact purpose.

Dr. Camellia was as entranced as Delta Two. "Isn't she magnificent," she murmured. "And she's only a month old?"

"And already almost as big as her mother," Jemma marveled. It astounded her, how quickly she was maturing. "Unfortunately her offspring are still arrested at a very early stage of development. I'm not sure what triggers them to reinitiate growth."

"Well we'll just have to add that to our list of things to figure out, won't we?" She stood up straight, painting on a confident smile. "Where did you want to start?"

They spent the next few hours making slow but steady progress and, though Jemma was thrilled to at last be chipping away at the wall that had previously impeded it, she also couldn't stop her eyes from wandering back to her phone, rechecking her notifications in case she'd missed something. It didn't help that the media felt the need to remind the public what was going on each half hour, even though they didn't actually have anything new. The chorus of dings the overlapping reports set off where more than a little distracting and she'd nearly jumped out of her skin the first time it had happened.

Her anxiety was not lost on her new lab partner.

"Is there something wrong?" Dr. Camellia asked, tilting her head towards the phone when another round of beeping caught their attention. "At home trouble?" she guessed.

Jemma skimmed over the report, noting nothing new, and let out a long sigh. "Not exactly _at home,_ " she told her. "It's the Clairvoyant group again, have you heard?"

She shook her head, but she didn't look surprised. "They've bombed another hospital?"

"They tried," Jemma answered. "Someone found the bomb though. The police sent a team in to disarm it and my boyfriend…" A sharp pain jabbed at her chest and the words halted in her throat."

"He's a doctor?" she guessed.

Jemma shook her head, smiling bitterly. "He's a bomb squad technician."

She couldn't bring herself to keep eye contact at Dr. Camellia's pitying expression. She didn't need the reminder. He'd done this more times than she cared to count but every time it still felt like her world had come to a standstill. Every time it still felt as if the air were too thick to breath.

Another electronic symphony rang out from her phone and when she leapt to read the update it was at last something new. Something terrible.

… _.the explosion happened at 3:07 pm, still no word on what is happening inside the building…_

Her stomach lurched, her head spinning as she leaned back into the chair.

"It's bad?" Dr. Camellia guessed.

Jemma could only nod, numb from head to toe. They still didn't have any information on what exactly had happened. There was absolutely no reason for her to expect the worst. She'd gotten news like this before. Mack would have called her if anything had happened to him…. unless Mack had been in there with him.

For a full minute, she couldn't move. If the air had been heavy a moment ago, now it was suffocating. She couldn't stop herself from seeing Fitz in the hospital, the way he'd been two years ago, when he hadn't moved for nine whole days. She saw him behind a wall of plastic sheeting, lined up with the dead, and she shut her eyes tightly, trying to block it out.

' _That doesn't even make any sense,'_ she scolded herself. ' _This isn't the same thing, this isn't Westfield.'_

She saw his injuries, strange how much detail she could remember, the pattern of black and red that had made it's way down the side of his head, onto his neck, angry burns on his chest and arms. She remembered each broken rib, where his arm had fractured, the colour of the cast, of his broken fingers...

"Hey."

Dr. Camellia's soothing voice brought her back out of her head and after few deep breaths, fingers gripping the edge of the bench, she'd calmed herself enough to realize she'd started crying.

"I- I need to…" She sniffed, swiping the back of her sleeve over her eyes.

"Do we need to go?" the other woman asked. She was already standing to grab her coat when Jemma managed a jerky nod.

The trip back upstairs was blur, Jemma leading the way through the well traveled passages like a ghost floating through it's last steps. When Ward was the one at the front desk, and he wouldn't let Dr. Camellia leave without signing back over the visitors pass, she was sure she was going to burst out of her skin. It took every ounce of willpower she had not to shout at him and even then she couldn't keep her agitation from contorting her features.

"You go on ahead," Dr. Camellia urged. Ward made to protest but she snared him with a flirtatious smile, leaning forward slightly to rest her elbows on the desk. "You don't mind walking me out, do you?" she asked him.

He cast another stern glance at Jemma but his gentleman facade won over and his attention returned to Dr. Camellia, matching her smile with enough of his swindling charm that Jemma nearly gagged. "Of course Ma'am."

Free to leave at last, she sped out the doors and into the parking lot, trying to remember the quickest route to the Mercy West Hospital as she jogged across the pavement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to notapepper for betaing this chapter and suggesting the terrorist group be called "the Clairvoyant Group" 
> 
> Mercy West is named after a hospital in Grey's Anatomy (I think they're rival hospital) because... well bad things happening in hospitals is pretty much the staple of that show :P 
> 
> The lyrics are from the song Little Pistol by Mother Mother, which I feel like is just a good song in general for Jemma in S2/S3 and also in this story (although as of yet I have not written her possessing a gun, it's the fear thing)


	5. Would You Lie With Me and Just Forget the World?

Fitz stood in the bright midsummer sunshine, in the parking lot outside Mercy West Hospital, smarting from a jagged cut just above his eyebrow, but otherwise unharmed. It still hadn't stopped bleeding, but he wasn't really thinking about himself at the moment, he was much more worried about his the friend he was now hovering around, earning himself a side-eye from the agitated paramedic.

"You're making me nervous Turbo," Mack kidded, grinning at Fitz when the paramedic shoed him back so she could closer look at the bruising around the larger man's ribs. "You seeing something I'm not?"

"What?" Fitz frowned, confused by the question. "No, no you look fine to me. He's fine isn't he?" he worried, addressing the paramedic whose lips had formed a tight line when he'd leaned back in to watch over her shoulder.

"Maybe you should have that cut of yours looked at," she suggested dryly, in a way that made it clear she wasn't at all concerned about his injury.

He made a face, but conceded in taking a step back.

Mack chuckled but cut himself off, wincing and holding his side.

"Yup, you've got yourself two broken ribs," the paramedic told him sympathetically. "I'll get you something for the pain on the way to the hospital."

Fitz twisted his thumb, mouth twitching. "He'll be OK though?" he repeated quietly.

The paramedic nodded, breaking out of her irritation with him for a moment. "We're going to do our best," she promised, shooting them both an encouraging smile. "And you really do seem fine," she added to Mack. "It's just a precaution."

"Try calling Jemma again," Mack suggested, jerking his head towards Fitz's pocket. "She's probably wondering what's going on."

"She's not answering her phone," Fitz told him. He'd tried calling her three times already, each time it went straight to voicemail.

"She might be driving," he guessed. Then a grin spread across his face and he waved at something behind him, causing Fitz to spin around just as Jemma came rushing into his arms.

"Oof." The force of her collison sent him stumbling back but he quickly right himself, cucooning her in his embrace.

"Thank God you're alright," she breathed. She kept a tight grip on him but his teammate must have caught her eye. "Mack?" she asked, concerned. "What happened? Are you OK?"

They pulled apart, her fingers digging into the sleeves of his uniform, and Fitz twisted around to see that Mack was being wheeled up into the ambulance.

Mack smiled, reassuring. "It's just a precaution," he said, parroting the paramedic's earlier statement.

She smiled, relieved. "And a good excuse to take a few days off," she added cheerfully.

"I'll call you guys later," Mack promised, waving goodbye before the doors closed in front of him and the paramedic.

As the ambulance pulled away, Jemma gently tilted his face towards her for a proper inspection. "We should get that cleaned up," she decided, studying the cut above his eye. "Maybe I should drive you to the hospital."

"No!" he objected immediately. "No, I don't want to spend the night waiting in the emergency room," he explained at her raised eyebrows. "We have a reservation, remember?"

She looked like she wanted to argue but when their eyes met she must have seen how much he meant it and she sighed, instead taking a step back to inspect him. "You're sure that's the only injury you have?" she asked quietly.

"It is," he promised. "Mack was closest to the explosion, he was the one who told me to run. There were two bombs, not one. I'd just finished dismantling the first one when he-" he cut himself off at her expression.

Her face crumpled, contorting as she fought back the tears glistening in her eyes.

"Jemma?" What was had he said?

Fitz retraced his words, trying to pinpoint the thing that was upsetting her so much. He'd seen her afraid for him before, shaken up by a close call, but this was different. When she didn't answer he stepped after her to wrap a protective arm around her shoulders, leading her away from the centre of the parking lot so that they could have a bit of privacy.

Alone now, at least for the most part, she let herself go, choking out a sob before pushing her face into his shoulder. He held onto her, rubbing the side of her arm, until her raspy voice cut through her tears.

"Why is this happening," she asked miserably. "No one here is e-even sick yet. What's going to happen when they are? Ho-how are we going to help them when everyone is panicking?"

This was about Westfield. He should have guessed that, but how could he have known that what had happened today would link back to it? How could he protect her from being afraid when he didn't even know what she was afraid of? He'd heard her story, he knew why she was worried about people panicking again, that she knew firsthand what that fear could lead to, but he didn't know what to say that would make this better again. It wasn't completely alien for him, to be at a loss for words. Two years ago he'd thought he'd be stumbling over them for the rest of his life but now that he had them back, or at least most of the, he couldn't use them.

"We'll fix it," he murmured at last. "Together. Just like we always do." Her breath hitched and she gripped him tighter, clinging to him like a lifeboat. "You're already making progress," he reminded her. "And everyone is going home today. We just have keep doing what we're doing tomorrow, and the day after that, and after that, until we've made things right again." Her breathing had calmed, though she still wouldn't lift her head. "We just have to take it one day at a time," he told her. "And I'll be there every step of the way, even… even if I can't be _there_ , I'm still with you." He frowned, struggling to explain. "I won't ever give up on you Jemma," he decided at last. "Or our future."

She mumbled something, but it was muffled into his shirt.

"What was that?" he asked gently.

Her head pulled back and he saw that her eyes were red and puffy, but they'd cleared up and her face had relaxed into almost a smile. "I said I love you," she murmured.

His smile drew up the corners of her mouth a little further and he planted a soft kiss onto her forehead. "I'd say the feeling's pretty mutual."

/-/-/

The restaurant was as lovely as she remembered it. It had surprised her to discover that they hadn't been there in months. The menu had changed, certain foods weren't available anymore with the new travel restrictions in effect, but the ambiance was the same as it had been the night they'd first discovered it.

At the door they'd been required to have their temperature taken with a disposable thermometer, another reminder of the ever present that plagued even the relatively safer cities like theirs. The virus was coming, people knew, and no one wanted to risk being the first to get it.

"That was romantic," Fitz joked, whispering into her ear with a chuckle as the followed the waiter, and she giggled at him, refusing to allow herself to be infected by a foul mood.

Fitz pulled out the chair for her, pulling up another smile and she watched him fondly as he rounded the table to take his own seat. He was wearing his dress clothes and she'd put her best blouse for the occasion, even curling her hair, something she hadn't done in weeks. A candle danced between them and gentle music chimed in the air. They ordered a bottle of wine to share. Soon they'd ordered their food too, and they were enthralled in conversation.

"I still can't believe his secret was a _girlfriend,_ " Fitz scoffed, shaking his head in disapproval. He held out his hand, thumb and index finger nearly touching. "We were so close Jemma," he whined. "This close to having Leah and Jeremy get together and they had to go ruining it all by… by pulling him to another planet with some hot astronaut woman."

"And of course we don't find out about it until _after_ their date," Jemma added before taking a sip of wine. "Poor things. And Daisy says _our_ love life is complicated. At least we haven't been stranded at the bottom of the ocean."

"And at least neither of us have ever needed to work undercover at an enemy organization because…" he frowned. "Why was Jeremy there again?"

"To steal information," she told him, as if it should be obvious.

"No, I mean why did he leave Leah when she was recovering?" he clarified. "She needed him!"

"Oh Fitz, he was only making it worse though," she defended. "Remember how she was when he returned?"

"Right, right," he agreed. "But she thought it was because of her injury. And after they finally learned to work together again…"

"Jeremey get's whisked off to some desert planet with _her,_ " Jemma finished tartly.

"I can't believe that actually happened," he grumbled. "It's completely unfair! Why can't they just be together? Why does everything need to be so difficult? All they want to do is love Jemma." His hands flew up in exasperation. "Can't they have _love."_

It was cute, how passionate he was about it, and she needed to bite her lip to stop herself from giggling at him.

"This isn't a joking matter," he complained, self consciously crossing his arms over his chest when her giggles burst through. "Our pair might be in serious trouble! You _know_ how skittish Leah was to begin with, how she thought he couldn't love her back and it would ruin their friendship, and now Jeremy won't let himself be happy, thinking Wilma died for him. It's a disaster! They should be together! It's _true love._ "

"You're such a romantic," she chuckled, amused when that turned the tips of his ears red. "And I'm sure Leah and Jeremy are going to be together. Remember ZAP? When she rushed in to save him from that alien virus? How they worked together to fix it?"

"Or how they worked together to steal the ToyBox? Coming up with that plan right under the bad guy's noses-"

"And how Leah jumped through a hole in the universe for him, not once, but _twice,"_ Jemma added excitedly.

"And Jeremy talked to her the entire time he was on Mortem," Fitz chipped in. "And he ran to her the moment he heard her in that sandstorm."

"Exactly," she agreed confidently. "They've chosen each other already. It's only a matter of time now before they can finally be together."

"Unless they decide to toss one of them into an autoclave," he muttered.

"That's ridiculous," she dismissed. "They'd never survive that. They're far more likely to have one of them lose their memories."

"They're not losing their memories they're going to be together!" he protested. "Jemma you need to stick with the plan!"

She couldn't stop herself from laughing at that, uncoiling the tight springs that had been rusting in her chest, and after a few seconds Fitz gave in and chuckled along.

Their food was served, Fitz having chosen spaghetti and meatballs, while she'd ordered the chicken parmigiana, and they tucked into their meals, the conversation dropping into a comfortable pause.

After a minute, Fitz nudged a meatball to the side of his plate closest to her. "Did you want a bite?" he offered. He looked just like the dog from Lady and the Tramp, puppy dog eyes and all.

Her eyes narrowed with affection and she nudged her own plate towards him. "I'll trade you for some chicken."

He smiled, his expression a mirror image of hers, and reached out to take her hand instead, his thumb running over the tops of her fingers. "I'm glad we did this," he said.

"Me too," she agreed softly. Her eyes drifted over him, enjoying the view. "You look nice tonight."

A new smile crept onto his face, bashful this time. "So do you."

"And you're right, about true love," she added.

He crinkled his nose, smug. "I know. That's why I chose you."

It was a moment she knew she'd keep with her forever, an evening that belonged to them and them alone. A few hours where they didn't owe the world a single thing, a short blink of time in which it wasn't winding towards disaster. It was like the settling of a river along a rocky shoreline, or the pause in the wind on a blustery day. Always, they had each other, but for the final hours of that day there was nothing to taint the joy that came out of that, there was only love.

She squeezed his fingers, her eyes sparkling. "I'd say that feeling's pretty mutual."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRRRY this so late. I've gotten a bit busy these past few weeks and I have to figure out a good way to write the ending segment. I know where it's going just gotta get there :P (but it's not for a while for you guys)
> 
> The song lyrics are from Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol (which me and my ex have a crazy theory is about a dog) But I like the double meaning of the line "would you lie with me and just forget the world" 
> 
> So points if you recognized Lea and Jeremy's story ;)
> 
> ALSO I have headcanon that these two shamelessly share food.


	6. Trouble It Will Find You No Matter Where You Go

Rain poured down in sheets on the stormy Saturday morning and Jemma's sprint from the parking lot to the building left her hair plastered to her head, dripping onto her shoulders when she hurried inside.

"Good day to be a duck," Daisy, her coworker, commented from the front hall. Like Jemma, she'd only just arrived and she gave her head a shake, scattering the raindrops away. "I thought I was the only one coming in today."

' _Unfortunately, Delta Two doesn't know what Saturday is.'_ Jemma mused to herself. "Didn't you have plans this weekend?" she wondered, falling into step beside her as they walked towards the offices. She'd leave her there and continue on to the labs, slipping down the staircase into the bunker.

"My dad's meeting me for dinner tonight," she told her, smiling nervously. "We… we have a lot to talk about you know? But we thought we should keep our first meetings short."

Daisy had only just reconnected with her estranged father a few months ago, exchanging emails on almost a daily basis ever since. Jemma knew that many people were reaching out to family now, finding lost relatives and old sweethearts all over the world. It was frightening, to know that the sudden spike had been causes a growing sense of dread about the future, but it was also a much more uplifting side effect of the impending disaster than the things Fitz dealt with every week now.

"Are you excited?" Jemma asked kindly.

Daisy laughed. "Terrified. And… OK maybe a little excited too. But mostly terrified. It's not every day a girl meets her dad for the first time… and I was supposed to be a lot more small and squishy when it happened."

"I'm sure he's feeling a little apprehensive about the whole thing too," she pointed out.

"He doesn't _seem_ too freaked out," she worried. "He sent a whole platoon of smiley faces when we agreed to meet. I'm just…" She bit her lip and Jemma rose her eyebrows, encouraging her to continue. "What if I'm a disappointment?" she whispered.

A disappointment? How could anyone think that about Daisy? Jemma shook her head, tugging on her friend's arm to pull her to a stop. Delta Two could wait a few extra minutes for breakfast, she needed her now.

"You're not a disappointment," she said firmly.

She frowned, unconvinced. "I don't even have a high school diploma…"

"So what?" Jemma dismissed. "You're the head programmer for a major research facility. You've written the code for our entire research database, you practically _invented_ ViroSim."

"They only hired me after they caught me hacking into their system," she reminded her flatly.

"They hired you," Jemma said, placing a hand on her shoulder, "because you're the best." When Daisy's chin fell to her chest, still uncertain, she tilted her head to catch her eye. "You're a remarkable young woman Daisy," she asserted. "And if he can't see that…" She puffed out a breath. "If he can't see that you can call me and we'll buy all the ice cream you want, OK? I'll even try to find that mystery gummi worm kind you love so much."

That pulled up a small smile and Daisy to lifted her head to meet her gaze. "And watch Disney movies until our eyes melt?"

"Until they're completely liquified and pouring out of our sockets," Jemma promised.

She laughed. "That's disgusting."

Jemma shrugged as they continued on their way. She'd started it hadn't she?

"What are you doing here anyway?" Daisy asked, after they'd flashed their ID cards to the guard at the front desk. She prodded her good naturedly with her elbow. "Don't you ever take a day off?"

"Oh." She jolted in alarm, scrambling for an explanation. "Just… trying to get ahead on my research," she said vaguely.

Daisy nodded, understanding. "Yeah, I'll bet you're feeling a lot of pressure with everything that's happening," she said sympathetically. "Especially after…"

"Especially since the infection rate has increased exponentially since the spring," Jemma finished quickly, not wanting to talk about the other thing, about Westfield, even with her old friend.

Her mouth twitched, eyes bright with concern, but she didn't push it. "Yeah."

Jemma forced up a smile, dipping her voice in artificial sweetener. "So what brings you here so bright and early on a Saturday morning?"

"Something about the Maveth Bunker," Daisy told her, holding up her own set of keys to the underground safehouse. "May called me saying there was a problem with the automatic backup, extra data being saved I think."

"Oh…." Panic prickled in her chest. "I… I thought the computers in the bunker were isolated from the main system. How did she know?"

Who else had seen it? Had they taken a look at the back up data? If they had, pretty soon someone was going to figure out what she'd done, but the more pressing problem at the moment was that Daisy was about to see it first-hand. She needed to find a way to stop her.

"Well they are, except on Fridays when all the information is automatically backed up in the main system. It'd stop connecting if we, you know, had to use it."

If the virus spread to the East Coast, she meant. A more and more probable possibility each passing week.

"You're going down there now?" she squeaked.

"Yeah," Daisy told her brightly. "I want to get in and out as quickly as possible, it's _creepy_ down there." She pinned Jemma with a pleading look. "You… you wouldn't mind coming with me would you?"

"No not at all!" she agreed, maybe a bit too enthusiastically. When Daisy's eyes widened in surprise, she pushed on, improvising as she went. "So you won't have to go alone, because… like you said, it's very creepy. And… what are friends for?"

"Is there something you aren't telling me?" she asked, more amused than suspicious. "Do you have some mountain of paperwork you're avoiding? You didn't get into another fight with Ward did you? Because if you're trying to avoid him, coming with me isn't the best idea."

Jemma's heart froze. "What do you mean?" she deadpanned.

"He's meeting me down there," Daisy answered. "Because I don't technically have clearance yet, I need someone to supervise me."

The room spun around her. If Ward got down there before she did….

"You need to call him," she urged. "Right now, tell him I'm going with you. That he doesn't need to go."

"Woah, Jemma calm down…" Daisy started, raising her hands placatingly.

"He can't go down there Daisy," she pressed. "I… I did something." She looked around wildly, relieved to find that they were alone. "He won't understand, he'll ruin everything. Please, you need to trust me. It's important."

Her friend regarded her carefully, at last comprehending the seriousness of the situation, even if she didn't entirely understand what was going on. Then she took out her phone, dialing a number before bringing it up to her ear.

"Ward? It's your lucky day, turns out you don't have to meet me after all," she told him, eyes locked onto Jemma whose shoulders sagged in relief as she mouthed a silent _thank you._ "No, Jemma's coming with me…. no she has clearance to be down there... " Daisy frowned and Jemma held her breath. "But…. No really we're fine. You're already on your way down there…" The pair exchanged a look of alarm. "Ward, seriously, you don't have to- Ward?" She pulled the phone away, huffing indignantly. "He hung up on me."

He was going down. He'd find Delta Two, he'd kill her. He was going to ruin _everything_ right when she was so close….

Her feet were moving before she knew what she was going to do, thinking only that she needed to get there before he did.

"Jemma wait!" Daisy called, tearing after her.

There was no time to tell her to stay behind, all she could do was move forward. Past the labs, down the staircase, heart sinking further and further into her stomach each level she reached without spotting Ward.

When she reached the first door, slipping in the key, her lungs felt like they were on fire. Daisy was struggling for breath behind her as they entered through the first, then the second.

' _He's in there,'_ she despaired. ' _He's found her. He's going to kill her.'_

Opening the final door, the smell hit her like rolling wave, prompting the two of them to cover their faces and only a moment later she identified what the thick, metallic reek was. Her eyes found the source, stomach lurching so that she needed to swallow down the bile that rose in her throat.

Two bodies, mutilated beyond recognition, their faces torn off and their insides strewn across the floor so that they sloshed together in the middle, a gory mess of blood and intestines.

"Oh my God." She heard Daisy behind her, on the edge of panic. "Oh my God… what…"

Ward stood over the bodies, his glare falling on Jemma when they entered and she knew that she deserved every drop of poison he was spewing at her. She knew what had done this.

"What was in the glass tank?" he asked through his teeth.

She shook her head, throat in a vice. "How… how did they…"

His fist came down on one of the metal desks, the loud bang jolting her out of the spell that had fallen over her. "Damnit Simmons, what was in there?"

"You know what was in there!" she shot back.

Ward's eyes flared, furious, and for a second she thought he was going to shoot her. "I told you to kill it."

"I couldn't do that," she told him flatly.

"And they paid the price." He gestured down towards the bodies with his gun, shaking his head in disgust.

It was true, she realized in horror. Whatever reason they'd been down here, this was her fault, these two people had died because of her. The truth of it made the world swayed beneath her feet, her limbs like jelly and for what felt like an eternity, she had no idea what to say. She'd be sent to prison for this, maybe for the rest of her life, however long that would be with the virus spreading like wildfire. Would she die there? Gasping for breath like the woman who haunted her dreams? Would her loved ones die first? Her mum, her dad, Daisy, Fitz….

The sound of Daisy retching behind her caused her to spin around, head clearing as Ward looked on in sympathetic disgust.

"I'm sorry," Daisy gasped, whipping her mouth. She was pale, sweat glistening on her skin and a greenish tinge to her face that made Jemma worry she was going to throw up again.

"You should get back upstairs," she told her gently.

"You should _both_ get back upstairs," Ward ordered. "We'll deal with you after me and May find that thing," he added darkly, shooting Jemma a hard glare.

"She's not dead?" Hope rose in her chest. Even if she weren't allowed to complete her work, maybe someone else could. Maybe Raina. If she could only convince Ward-

The door behind them creaked open and suddenly a familiar pair of arms were clamped around her shoulders, Fitz's scent almost eclipsing the stench of the blood.

' _No,'_ she thought, alarmed. ' _Fitz what are you doing? They can't know you knew about this!"_

"They said there were bodies," he breathed, his voice hitching against her ear. "I thought it was… I thought…" He fell silent, tightening his grip on her as she brought up her arms to hold him back, taking comfort in his presence even as it frightened her.

"He was looking for you," May, another one of the security guards, explained behind him. The astronaut who'd brought back Delta One stood, watching uneasily, behind her. "Something about you not answering your phone." She and Ward exchanged a glance. "I was told you might be coming down here and he wouldn't wait upstairs."

Jemma eased herself out of Fitz's grasp, stepping protectively in front of him. "He didn't know about any of this," she asserted. She glanced between May and Ward, pleading. "I was supposed to come home earlier I… he knows I work with dangerous chemicals and he gets worried."

"Jemma-" Fitz began.

"Shush!" she snapped. "Lying about it won't help me."

Their eyes met and she watched as he pieced together what happened, what was going to happen next. She saw them grow bright with pain, with fear for her, but she stared him down until he looked away, realizing that they were defeated.

Ward scoffed. "Do you really expect that story to hold up?"

"It's not entirely unbelievable," May told him smoothly. "And we have more important things to worry about right now."

Something rattled near the entrance to the lab, metal on concrete, and all eyes snapped to the source.

"What… what is that thing..?" Daisy spluttered.

Delta Two stood on her hind legs, teeth dripping blood as she tilted her head from side to side, listening carefully. Brushing against a canister of pressurized gas, she was only about a half a dozen meters away from May and Will who were closest to the entrance, blocking their escape that way.

"It's about to be dead," Ward muttered, raising his gun.

"No!" To Jemma's surprise, it was Will who spoke the word she'd screamed in her own head, directing it at Ward in a harsh whisper. "No, if you shoot, she'll charge."

"It worked on the other one," he pointed out, eyes never leaving the alien.

"Because the other one hadn't fed in days," he countered quietly. When Ward didn't budge he stepped forward, grabbing his arm. "What you're about to do got half of my crew killed."

"Hold your fire Ward," May ordered. "What do we do?" she asked Will.

"Back up," he told her. "Slowly."

The group did as he'd instructed, Fitz taking Jemma's hand as they did and she held on tight, deciding that whatever happened next they were going to face it together.

Delta two sniffed the air, letting out a low growl, and dropped down onto all fours. They were nearly at the back door now, Daisy already being ushered through, and it was taking every ounce of willpower Jemma had not to turn tail and run. If she did that though, Delta Two would chase them. If she did that they'd all die here.

While Will and Ward ducked out the door, Delta two found the first body, nudging it with her nose before burying her face into the gaping wound, pulling out a string of flesh that she gulped up like a noodle. Jemma had known, theoretically, that humans were something she was capable of eating, but seeing it happen, seeing the creature she'd spent hours working beside, dig into this poor soul the way she'd dig into a trout, made something rotten sink to the bottom of her stomach.

The distraction, however, allowed them to all to get through the door unharmed, May closing it quietly behind them before locking it shut.

"What now?" she asked.

"We need to get out of here," Will told her, examining the door warily. "That won't hold it.

"Is there another exit?" Ward asked.

"There has to be," Jemma answered. "It's standard safety protocols, it needed to have at least two."

"And I'm guessing you have no idea where it is," he commented snidely.

"There should be a map somewhere," she went on edgily. "On the wall somewhere. There was one in the lab."

"We can't get into the lab," he reminded her. He took a step forward, towering over her and she met his glare with one of her own. "Thanks to you we're stuck out here."

"Hey! Don't go blaming this on Jemma, she wasn't the one that let it out," Fitz shot back, pushing himself between them. He'd never met Ward before but Jemma had talked about the disagreeable guard often enough that he knew who he was and she could tell he didn't like the way he was talking to her.

"She was the one who brought it down here," Ward growled. "And now thanks to her we're stuck with no way out," he added, angrily pushing Fitz to the side.

"Don't you touch him," Jemma snarled.

"Enough!" May snapped. "All of you! We need to move along before that thing finishes eating. You can argue about whose fault it is when we're out of here."

Jemma and Ward exchanged another glare but even he wasn't stupid enough to disagree with that, so they did as she'd said and, along with Fitz, Daisy and Will, followed her deeper into the bunker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Song Lyrics are from the song "Trouble" By Lenka 
> 
> I may be posting these chapters later, since my computer had a meltdown and this one is stuck at home :P Soooooooo I have to wait until I get home to post them. But I should still be on schedule on Wednesday for the next several weeks :)


	7. So Hold Me When I'm Here, Right Me When I'm Wrong, Hold me When I'm Scared, And Love Me When I'm Gone

They walked the halls in silence, Will having suggested it to avoid attracting the creature. It could smell them though, Jemma had told him about it's heightened olfactory senses, and Fitz knew that when it got through the door it'd still be just a matter of time before it tracked them down. Hopefully they'd find the exit before that happened.

Their hands clasped between them, Jemma and Fitz took up the rear of the group with Ward trailing just behind them, his gun out and ready.

"You know, I thought you'd be bigger," Ward commented snidely. "When I heard Simmons was going out with a member of the bomb squad I pictured someone with a little more muscle mass."

Jemma tensed beside him but Fitz wasn't concerned about what this man thought of him, even if he did sometimes wish he _were_ bigger. He was who he was and, in the end, he was pretty sure he wouldn't want to be anyone else. Especially considering that 'himself' was the person who the most amazing woman on the planet was in love with. He must have been doing something right.

"You might find it hard to believe, but we don't actually smash the bombs with our bare hands," he shot back quietly, seeing Jemma's mouth quirk up in a smile beside him.

"I'm guessing you didn't help her wrangle that thing down here either," Ward guessed and Fitz could feel his eyes boring into the back of his neck.

"Fitz didn't know about Delta Two," Jemma asserted stubbornly. Her grip on his hand tightened, protective, and he knew better than to try to argue. What would it help anyhow?

"Uh huh." He didn't sound convinced. "He didn't seem too shocked about it. And how did he know you'd be down here?"

Her jaw tightened, eyes flashing dangerously. "Please just shut up," she muttered. "I'd rather not get eaten today."

"Well you should have thought of that before you brought it here," he answered darkly, but he was quiet after that.

Jemma's eyes clouded, an all too familiar pain making it's way to the surface, and Fitz passed his thumb along the top of her knuckles, comforting her as best he could without giving her away. She wouldn't thank him for putting a spotlight on her weakness, not in front of Ward.

Scuttling above their heads caught their attention and, without any further warning, the air vent in front of him and Jemma burst off of it's hinges, Delta Two springing down to land on her hind legs. She stood, head brushing the ceiling at her full height, cutting off the two halves of the group.

Fitz's first instinct was to push Jemma behind him but she sank her fingers into his arm when she felt the tug, refusing to budge. Neither of them was willing to take their eyes off the creature but without even a glance between them her message was clear.

_We're facing this together._

While he racked his brain for their next move, Ward reacted instead, shooting at the creature who sprinted forward with terrifying speed, dodging the bullet before springing at them. This time Jemma let him pull her away, veering down the hallway next to them and, hand in hand, they ran as it tore after them.

"Fitz, this way!" Jemma panted, tugging him to the side as she smashed her card over the panel in front of one of the bunker's labs.

The glass door slid open and he herded her in before slamming it shut behind them, just in time for Delta Two to crash into it. It rattled, but the door held, and after pawing at it for for a minute, she lost interest and moved on.

For a long while, the pair stood frozen, holding onto each other as they caught their breath. Jemma was shaking like a washing machine on the spin cycle and, though he was pretty sure he was doing the same, he felt better for having her safe in his arms.

_Together. At least I know where she is._

"What have I done?" Jemma squeaked. The way the words seemed to choke her tore at his heart.

He pulled her closer, burying a kiss into the top of her hair. "This isn't your fault," he soothed. "Clearly there's been some sort of foul play-"

"She's my responsibility Fitz," Jemma protested. She leaned against his chest, breaths ragged, and when he rose a hand to stroke her cheek he found it wet. "How could I let this happen? How could someone have found out about her? I was so careful… but… but I've been so tired and-" She cut herself off with a whimper that stabbed at his heart and he tightened his embrace, pushing his cheek against the top of her head. There were some things he had no idea how to protect her from, even when he was by her side.

"We're going to fix this," he promised. She sniffed, pulling back and he took her face between his hands to wipe at the tears with his thumbs. "We just need to take things one step at a time OK?"

She swallowed, nodding bravely and he lay a gentle kiss onto her forehead before releasing her to scan the hallway through the glass door. Jemma was right behind him, grabbing onto his arm, he guessed for her own comfort as much as his.

"I don't see her," Fitz whispered. "But she could still be in the ventilation…"

"Or waiting around the corner," Jemma added grimly. "But we need to find the others, maybe we can make our way out through the main lab, find re-enforcements." Her eyes closed and he could see that she was debating something. Then she took his hand, leading him away from the door. "Fitz, we should make a plan for what's going to happen next."

He frowned, confused. "You just said we should-"

"I mean after I'm taken away," she explained quickly.

Their eyes met and his lip trembled as he realized what she was saying. "Jemma…"

"I'm going to be sent to prison for this Fitz," she told him flatly.

He shook his head. "You don't know that." _But I couldn't stop it if it were true._ He was as helpless, as useless to her as a worm, and he hated it.

"I need you to make sure my research is carried on," she pressed, ignoring his protest. "I have a list of possible candidates… you'll need to be careful which ones you trust of course but-"

"You're not going to prison," he objected stubbornly. The thought of it loomed above him like an anvil waiting to drop and he couldn't stand it.

"Fitz you need to listen to me," she urged. He flinched at the harshness of her tone and her features softened, her hand reaching out to cup his cheek. "Please. I need you to do this for me… for all of us."

His gut ached and his eyes were hot and wet but he nodded against her palm, realizing that they didn't have much time. "OK," he agreed grittily. _Whatever you need, whatever makes this easier for you._

She smiled at him, her courage like radiant light. "There's a list in the drawer of my bedside table, and I've kept three of Delta Two's embryos in storage in our flat. If they find and destroy the one's here first, you're going to need to use those."

He listened carefully as she went through her instructions, hoping he'd remember them but hoping even more that he wouldn't have to.

When she was finished she took his face between her hands, just as he'd done with hers, and pushed her forehead against his. He closed his eyes, stilling the moment and focusing on the warmth of her skin, her fingers on his cheeks. "And I love you," she added, her voice softly falling snow, raining down on him and gathering like dust onto his heart. "I love you and I want you to be happy, don't forget that."

The thought of being happy should she be taken away from him seemed like a daunting task, but he'd keep up hope, for her, no matter what happened. "I love you too," he whispered. "And I'm with you, for everything."

She moved back, her smile making her eyes sparkle. "We always did make the best team," she mumbled. Then her face hardened and she nodded towards the door. "Shall we?"

Hand in hand, they approached the door, surveying the hallway once again to make sure the coast was clear. When they opened it, Fitz slid out first, Jemma close behind.

However, just as she was coming through, an alarm blared overhead, drilling into Fitz's ears, and the door slid shut with a loud _smack_ that was overlapped by Jemma's scream.

"Jemma!" Fitz spun around to see that the door had closed over her arm, pinning it into place. Her face contorted in pain as she tried to wiggle it loose but it was jammed between the door and the frame.

"It's the… the emergency… ugh!" she cried out, gritting her teeth as her fingers clawed at the metal frame. "The emergency lockdown. Someone must have triggered it."

"Who would do that?" he shouted over the alarm. He tried to move the door, pulling on it with all his might, but even with Jemma helping it wouldn't budge. "Damn it!" he growled. "Couldn't they have given us a warning?"

"I'd have appreciated that," she said between her teeth.

Her face was white, the muscles in her jaw taught, and he realized the door had shut over her still healing injury. She must have been in a lot of pain but she was doing her best to hide the bulk of it. He tried the door again, straining against it with all his might.

"C'mon. _Open,"_ he muttered.

"Fitz it's no use," she told him. "You'll have to find something to pry it open."

"Like hell I'm leaving you here like this," he grumbled, searching around for something within reach.

"You don't have much of a choice," she pointed out.

She was right, he realized. His heart sank like a stone and for a moment he was frozen to the spot, unable to tear his eyes from her. Beads of sweat were gathering on her forehead and her pleading eyes were glazed over. How could he leave her like this? What if that thing came back? But how could he stay, and do nothing as she suffered?

Then they heard the shriek, and his mind was made up for him.

/-/-/

The adrenaline that rushed through Jemma's veins at the piercing shriek almost dissipated the agony she pulsing in her arm. She could hear Delta Two's claws sliding across the linoleum floor, no more than a dozen meters away, sound carried through the halls like a train through a tunnel. Time was running out, but Fitz seemed completely unfazed by the apparent truth.

"I'm going to try to pull it apart again," he told her, hushed now that the creature was so close.

Couldn't he see it wasn't going to work? "Fitz…" She shook her head, tears stinging her eyes but he ignored her.

"Get ready to pull your arm-"

"Fitz stop," she begged. A chill had settled over her, terror creeping up like winter, but now that the ice had taken hold she could finally see what had to happen next. As awful as it was, it calmed her that she knew what to do, her new goal a worthy second.

His fingers reached for the edge of the door and she caught his wrist with her free hand.

"You have to go," she whispered.

He tried to move his hand forward again but she pulled it away and he frowned at her, confused. "We can't go until you get your arm out."

A crash down the next hallway made them flinch. Delta two must have found something to distract herself with. It wouldn't hold her attention long with scent of meat in the air though.

Jemma pushed him away, managing to make him stumble backwards when she caught him by surprise.

" _Go!"_ she hissed.

At last he understood what she wanted, pain clouding the blue of his eyes. He moved back towards her, shaking his head. "I can't do that."

The footsteps resumed, she could hear the air flowing into the monster's nostrils when she paused to take a wiff, a low growl rumbling up her throat.

"We can't fight her," she reminded him desperately. "She tore apart two armed men, we won't stand a chance-"

"I won't leave you," he said fiercely.

Why was he so stubborn? If he stayed he would die. Couldn't he see that one of them surviving was better than none? That watching him ripped apart would only make this a thousand times worse?

Claws scraping the floor, she was so close now, turning the corner at any second.

"Please," she squeaked. "You can't save me."

His breath trembled, his head still moving from side to side in adamant denial, but at her final words something clicked and his expression changed, clearing.

"Yes I can," he whispered.

Her eyebrows knitted together, uncomprehending, and before she had a chance to completely register the meaning of what he'd said, his lips were crashing into hers, a frantic, fleeting touch, before he pulled away and smiled at her. It was the smile, as sad as it was filled with love, that gave him away, told her what he was about to do.

"Fitz no," she choked.

"I love you," he said, as if that were the only justification he needed.

Before she could reach out to him, hook her fingers into his arm, he'd bolted, not away, but _towards_ the alien monster, shouting at her and hitting the walls as he went.

"Hey! Ugly! Come get me!"

"No!" Her scream was cut off by Delta Two's excited cries and she struggled with everything she had, yanking her arm until the pain made her see spots.

Helpless, she watched the man she loved stare down the unseen monster, backing away and waving his arms in an attempt to lure her across the open hallway. Then he turned and fled and Jemma saw Delta Two streak across the gap in the hallway, too focused on Fitz to notice her still pinned by the door. It was only a glimpse but it was enough to make the bile rise in her throat.

Her test subject looked much bigger outside of her enclosure, her hooked claws sharper, each stride more powerful and she'd had blood dripping off her bared fangs… fangs that could soon be closing over Fitz's flesh.

"No!" she screeched. "No, come back!"

They were getting further away, only a wayward shriek to tell Jemma where they were, and when she heard Fitz cry out she started to panic, beating at the door in a feeble attempt to push it open.

After that she didn't hear anything from them and although she twisted and kicked and clawed at the steel clamping onto her, it wasn't letting her go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title lyrics are from When I'm Gone by 3 Doors Down
> 
> I dunno how realistic people getting caught in doors is, but hey if they can do it in the 100, so can I right ;) Also sorry Jemma! ahhh I'm so mean.


	8. Truth be told I've tried my best/ But somewhere along the way I got caught up in all there was to offer /And the cost was so much more than I could bear

Ward thrust one of the stools against the door, smashing it again and again with a string of loud _clangs_ that drove into Jemma like nails _,_ not managing to leave so much as a dent.

"You aren't going to be able to get it open like that," she told him tightly. Her stomach was already buzzing, each second that slipped away feeling like piece of her being cut out and the noise he was making her nerves feel like fire. "That door can withstand a bomb, you're wasting your time."

"At least I'm doing _something,_ " he growled. "Instead of sitting around here waiting for that thing to come pick us off."

"We're coming up with a plan," May's calm voice kept her anger at bay, like a wall against storming seas, barely containing it enough to shelter the harbour. "All of us want to get out of here."

He snorted, dropping the stool which clattered onto the floor, making Daisy flinch while Will and May eyed it uneasily. "And whose fault is it that we're in here?" he demanded, shooting Jemma a glare. "You just had to go and bring that monster down here instead of killing it like you were supposed to," he accused fiercely.

Jemma bristled. How dare he? _Now_ of all times. "I needed it to create an-" she growled but he cut her off with a scoff.

"You needed it? You still don't regret it, do you?" he asked incredulously. She clenched her jaw, furious that he had the nerve to say something so callous. He had no idea what she was feeling right now. Not a damn clue. "After what you did?" He pressed, and the waves surged dangerously high, threatening to tear through the barrier that kept her from lashing out, screaming, going mad. "You smuggled a dangerous animal down into a secure bunker-"

"I was ready to take the risk for the greater good," she shot back, fighting to keep her composure. "People are _dying_. We need a cure and we need it now."

"Did those two die for the greater good?" he challenged, jerking his towards the freezer where they'd sealed off the bodies. "Do you think your boyfriend thought he was dying for the greater good when that thing you brought here was ripping him to-"

He'd barely finished the sentence before she was lunging at him, consumed by a primal rage, a deep seeded hatred that was only rivaled by what she was already feeling for herself. She wanted to hurt him, or goad him into hurting her, she didn't care. Anything to take her attention away from the shards of glass grinding against her heart.

May caught her, pulling her back when she struggled to continue forward. "Come here you bloody coward!" she spat. She tried to pry May's arms away, straining to continue forward. "Let me go!"

"This isn't helping Dr. Simmons," she asserted, her grip like a vice and after a few more seconds Jemma gave up, breathing hard and seeing red. When she continued to glare at Ward's taunting face, May added more gently. "Fitz might still be alive, we need to focus on finding him if he is."

 _If he is._ She'd heard his scream, knew how helpless he'd have been against the creatures raw strength, his flesh like rice paper to her piercing fangs.

Tears welled up behind her eyes and she bit down hard on her tongue to stop them from spilling out. May was coddling her with this optimism, but any hope was enough for her to latch onto and her body relaxed, her fury subsiding. The idea was a seed inside of her, growing until roots filled her up and there was room for nothing else, not doubt or hope, only a steadfast resolution to try. She couldn't give up on him, he was in her skin, her veins, her bones and to leave him for dead was as impossible as it would be to leave her own body behind.

"Were you always this scrappy?" Ward sneered.

"I think you need to shut up and let us come up with a plan," Will warned from the other side of the lab.

Jemma didn't see the rest of their exchange because Daisy had scrambled to her side, blocking them from view. As May let her go, her friend placed a hand on her arm.

"Jemma…"

"I'm OK," she lied. She didn't want Ward, or anyone else, seeing how torn apart she was. She didn't have time to be weak. "I'm… we need to focus on what we're going to do next."

"What do we do now," Daisy asked gently.

She turned to her friend, seeing how frightened she was past the mask she wore for her sake, and another seed squeezed its way in beside Fitz's. Daisy, May, Will, and yes even Ward, didn't deserve to die because of her mistake, she needed to get them out of here.

"I think we need to get that door open," she answered steadily.

"We've been locked out of the system," Will pointed out.

Jemma managed a forced smile, meeting Daisy's gaze. "Well it's a good thing we have someone who can hack into it."

"Good thing we do," she agreed, her expression a clashing mixture of smug and gentle. "It might take a while, there's some pretty heavy security, even for me. This place is kind of a big deal, being humanity's last hope and all."

"OK." Jemma gave her a curt nod. "You can try the main computer on the other side of the lab. Meanwhile, I need someone to come with me to look for Fitz."

"I'll go," May offered at once.

"Me too," Will agreed.

"Look for him?" Ward questioned skeptically. "Is that really something we should be wasting our resources on? Look, I'm sorry, but the guy is dead."

Jemma winced. A knee to the gut would have been kinder. "We don't know that," she muttered. ' _But he's probably right…'_

He shot her a pitying look and she wished May would let her hit him. Just once. "I'm just putting the truth out there. We're all thinking it."

"I'm not," May objected flatly.

"If it were me out there, I'd want someone coming to get me," Will added stubbornly and Jemma cast both of them a weak smile, grateful for the support.

Will was right. It didn't matter how slim their chances were, they owed it to Fitz to try and the idea of doing anything else at this point seemed unthinkable. Leaving him for dead, no matter how likely it was that he indeed was dead, wasn't something she was capable of doing.

"Someone needs to stay to protect Daisy anyway," May told the still dubious Ward. "We're the only two with weapons, so if I'm going you'll need to stay behind."

Ward crossed his arms across his chest, displeased, but didn't argue. "I guess it's just going to be you and me," he told Daisy tartly.

"Yipee," she deadpanned.

/-/-/

Fitz woke up to a sharp pain in his side, his aching head feeling like someone had decided to stuff a bag of cotton balls into it. Every breath was like inhaling shards of glass and when he cracked open one eye the blinding brightness of the waking world forced him to snap it shut, groaning in pain.

 _You need to get up._ A voice in the back of his head prodded him impatiently. _Something important… someone…._

Jemma.

His eyes flew open, vision blurred but quickly focusing and as he took inventory of himself he realized he was lying on a pile of metal poles. They must have broken his fall… lucky him.

Struggling to sit up, his memories flooded back. Jemma trapped, the creature making its way towards them, shouting for it to follow him, running, terror, open jaws waiting to tear at him and then…

And then falling. He'd run straight off the edge of a railing, plummeting down between the stairs after flipping over it in his mad rush to escape. It was a miracle he was still alive.

Carefully, he pushed himself up, the rush of pain on his left side forcing him to clench his fist until his knuckles were paperwhite, fighting down nausea. Something was broken, it wouldn't hurt like this if it wasn't and blood was trickling in thin streams down the side of his face. His hip was sore too, not nearly as agonizing as his probably broken rib, but bad enough that he was worried he wouldn't be able to put weight on it.

It was a slow process, getting to his feet, and he fell back down on the first try when he made the mistake of trying to use one of the poles for support. The damn thing had rolled out from underneath him, letting him crash down on his hip which sent another jolt of pain through him.

When at last rose shakily into a standing position, he found to his relief that he _could_ put weight on his left side. It hurt like hell, but he could do it, he could walk. He stared up the staircase, the two stories he'd need to climb taunting him cruelly, and his stomach fell. It was going to be a long hike up.

Jemma was up there though, alone, maybe still trapped and he wasn't about to let any amount of pain or broken bones or bloody _stairs_ stop him from getting to her. So he took a breath, brows knitting together in determination, and trudged his way towards the first step.

/-/-/

They couldn't call out to him as they searched, they needed to be silent, careful. They needed to be mice and it was infuriating because Fitz needed her and all she wanted to do was storm to his rescue like a hurricane.

She couldn't put Will and May in any more danger though, they were already at risk because of her and she had no right to make their situation any worse. So instead she crept along, searching the halls for a hint of her lost love, like a ghost from a fairytale, torn away from him but unable to call out. She'd underestimated how much it hurt, the intensity of the mind numbing panic.

"What are we going to do?" Will asked, breaking through the cloak of fog that had fallen over her. "When we find it?"

"I still think we should bring her back alive," Jemma answered, certain but unable to look at them as she spoke. "But if one of us- or Fitz- is in danger, we should do what he have to do."

"OK then," he agreed, and she was surprised at how easy that had been. He saw it too, she realized, the bigger picture. He understood why she'd done what she'd done. "I'd feel a lot better if I had a gun though," he muttered.

"I'd feel better if I knew what that thing was," May said flatly. "And why the two of you are so intent on keep it alive."

They'd come to another room, the door sealed shut, but May overrode it with her pass card, the same way she'd overridden the door that had trapped Jemma. Unfortunately the key only allowed her to enter the labs. Opening the main door required a password that none of them had. Daisy was going to need to make contact with someone on the outside if they were going to get out any time soon. Since it was the weekend, it was unlikely that anyone would notice them missing until Monday and by then… well by then it might be too late for that.

May held the door open, scanning the halls for any sign of danger as she ushered them inside.

"Because she's the key to curing VPE," Jemma told her distractedly, pushing past to search the space. It was unlikely they'd find Fitz in there but if anyone other than Daisy could override the security system to find a place to hide it was him. "Fitz?" She hissed. "Fitz are you in here?"

The conversation took a pause as they searched, globs of sludge gathering in her stomach as they, once again, failed to find him. It had been nearly two hours, combing the halls for any sign of him and they hadn't found a trace. Her optimism was quickly waning but her determination hadn't wavered. He wasn't in there, but he was somewhere, dead or alive he was _somewhere_ and she wouldn't rest until she knew.

There was an isolation chamber in the right corner, a small glass room with a bed and a double door. Another room flashed across her mind's eye, a face, a woman begging for help, and she jerked her gaze away, breathing shakily.

"He isn't here," she said curtly. "We need to move on."

May and Will exchanged a glance, but followed her out. She was still attempting to regain control when they caught up with her.

"You found a cure?" May asked quietly when they'd covered another hallway. "And you were willing to risk your own life to make it."

Jemma wasn't sure if the comment was disappointment or praise but she was automatically defensive. "It will save more people than Delta Two could ever kill."

Fitz wasn't a number though, no one was, but with him it was harder than ever for her to rationalize why she'd made the right decision. Save millions, lose Fitz. Was it wrong that it didn't seem like a fair trade?

"The virus has already killed more people than that thing ever will," Will added darkly. "Out of the entire town of Westfield there were only… what… fifty survivors?"

"Forty seven," she whispered, a familiar pain worming itself in with the rest. "Jessica wasn't one of them…"

She swallowed, knowing that she was leaving herself raw and open, that the other two were staring at her, but she needed to go on, she needed them to _know_ why she had done this. And maybe, if she were being honest, to remind herself too.

"Jessica was one of the nurses they sent with us. She contracted the virus in the first week… by the second…" She trailed off, swallowing a lump before pushing on. "She was dying and they wouldn't let anyone help her… she… she couldn't breath so I …." Her throat ached but she clenched her jaw, willing herself to go on. "So I went in anyway, I opened the door and exposed seventeen other people to the virus. Jessica died, twelve of the others did as well. I got to go home."

"But you never really felt like you were back," May guessed gently. Her words were spoken from experience and Jemma turned her burning eyes on her, shaking her head. "This won't fix that," she told her.

"I'm not trying to fix myself," Jemma answered evenly. "I'm trying to do the right thing." She paused, feeling another prickle of guilt at her next thought.

"But first we need to find Fitz," May said firmly, voicing it unashamed and Jemma cast her a weak smile, grateful at least that she understood.

/-/-/

Fitz lay flat on his back on one of the landings, gulping in air and grimacing because each breath sent a stab of pain across his ribs. He'd never hated stairs so much in his life.

Twisting his head, he peeked up at his nemesis, trying to gauge how much further he needed to go. It was only another two flights but it seemed like an insurmountable task. His leg throbbed, and his side felt as if wanted to split open. He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut.

' _Stop being a whiney noodle,'_ he scolded himself. ' _Jemma's up there. With that thing.'_

The thought was enough for him to heave himself to his feet, using the railing for support, but no sooner had he stood up when he heard the clack of claws echoing only a few levels above him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey sorry this was late, I got distracted by ... well you know ;) Hah, if AoS keeps this up I may need to start posting on Friday's when I'm not all hyped up still XD
> 
> The lyrics are from the song Fallen by Sarah McLachlan


	9. Help I'm Alive, My Heart Keeps Beating Like a Hammer

Jemma wasn't sure how she knew it was Fitz. The only sound that saturated the tunnels was Delta Two's terrible shrieks, but it was clear that she'd found something and, other than Ward and Daisy, the most interesting thing down there was him.

Instinctively, her muscles tensed, readying to launch her forward, but before she could so much as a lift a foot she felt Will's hand close around her upper arm, holding her back.

"Woah, wait a minute," he warned. "We need a plan."

"We don't have time for a plan!" She hissed, squirming out of his grasp. Fitz was alone, defenseless, he'd be torn to shreds if they didn't act.

"He's right Dr. Simmons," May said sternly. "You're not going to help anyone getting yourself killed."

Her stomach crackled, hooks yanking her in the direction of Delta Two, but she knew they were right and barging in blind wasn't going to work.

"How did you trap Delta One last time?" she asked, turning to Will.

His eyes darkened. "I got lucky," he admitted. "I thought she had me cornered until I realized I could open the door of the crate behind me. Then it was all a matter of moving quickly enough-"

"So we need to find our 'crate' then," Jemma decided, whipping around to face May. "A door. Could you lend me your key card?"

May rose her eyebrows. "You thinking of becoming the bait?"

"I can't ask either of you to do this," Jemma pointed out stubbornly. Another wail, followed this time by a loud crash. She felt the claws on Fitz's flesh as if it were her own. He wasn't screaming though, that had to mean he was OK…. unless it meant the other thing. "Please. We need to hurry."

May handed it over, eyes on Jemma as she unclipped it from her side. "We'll be right behind, we can confuse it, slow it down."

"But make sure she keeps chasing me," Jemma added, hastily taking the card. She needed to stay the target, needed to be the one to take on the burden.

Her companions each gave a curt nod and they were off, intent on trapping the beast and, hopefully, finding Fitz alive.

/-/-/

Delta Two's claws hit the ground only inches away from where Fitz had crammed himself under the landing and the concrete whined shrilly beneath them as it dragged its hand back, leaving a trail embedded in the floor. He'd been fortunate enough to fit into the small space underneath the landing, dragging his aching body into the dark, musty smelling hiding spot just in time to avoid its fangs taking a chunk out of his leg.

The way he was scrunched against the far wall was making every breath feel like he was trying to inhale razor blades, but he couldn't risk uncurling himself or it'd snag one of those wicked claws on his flesh and drag him out. If it got a hold of him, his current situation would seem almost comfortable in comparison.

Even so, between his panic and the pain he was having trouble getting enough air, sucking it in as if through a thin straw and his head had started spinning. He wasn't sure how long he was going to be able to keep himself curled away from her, before his body gave out on him and the thought sent a fresh wave of terror over him.

' _Jemma's alive,'_ he told himself, trying to focus on something else. ' _She's alive and she'll get out of here. She'll be OK.'_

The creature stuffed it's snout into the crack, hissing, and its foul breath washed over him, reeking of blood. Sick with fear, his stomach lurched and he tried to push himself into the wall, as if he could melt through it.

' _She's going to be so angry with me for this,'_ he predicted. ' _It'll be worse than the time me and Tracker came home after he'd run into a skunk."_

She'd threatened to have him share a tomato bath with the smelly hound.

Delta two shrieked, piercing his ears. She crammed her snout through the opening and snapped her teeth, trying to reach him, coming far too close to his knee and he closed his eyes.

' _But someday she'll find peace, she'll forgive me and she'll be happy and alive.'_

If she lived, a part of him would too. If she lived, he left the world knowing it was still complete. What he wouldn't do to see her one last time though, hear her voice again-

"Hey!"

He blinked, jolted out of his head by the very thing he'd been dreaming of.

"Hey, over here!"

_Jemma?_

Delta Two withdrew and her heard, sniffing the air before letting out a roar. Before Fitz could uncurl himself, before he'd even had a chance to comprehend what was happening, she was off like a flash of light and he was all alone.

When the pieces clicked together, his heart nearly exploded from his chest.

_Jemma!_

/-/-/

She was so fast. She'd never been this fast in her enclosure. Although, in the small space, with all her food provided for her, she'd never had reason to be.

Her teeth were nearly Jemma's heels when a sharp _clang_ from the left drew the beast's attention, and Jemma knew it was either May or Will, helping her gain the lead in the chase. However instead of continuing the pursuit, as she'd done before, Delta two paused.

Panting, Jemma risked a glance over her shoulder and saw that she'd come to a stop, teeth bared and legs coiled to spring. Will stood only a few feet away, stepping back uncertainly, his only weapon the pipe he'd picked up to bang against the walls.

Delta Two had switched targets, she was going to kill him and Jemma couldn't let that happen. This was her mistake, no one else should have to die because of her, so she launched herself at the creature, taking it by surprise long enough for its teeth to meet her shoulder rather than her neck. She cried out as they dug under her skin, the creature's head wiping her back and forth like a doll before she was tossed into a wall, her head spinning.

"Over here!" It was May this time and Jemma pushed herself up in time for her friend to meet her eyes, a flash of understanding passing between them.

_I guess I'm passing the baton after all._

Ignoring the pain that ripped into her shoulder, she moved to unclip the key card from her belt, hurling it at May who caught it just as Delta Two took up the chase. She was almost there, only a foot away from the door, and in one swift motion she'd swiped the card through to open it, darting out of the way as Delta Two charged past, stumbling over herself when she missed her prey. Quickly, May closed the door behind her, sealing it shut just as the roaring creature smashed against it.

"Jemma!" She'd never been so happy to hear his voice, even if it was shrill with panic, and she was stumbling to her feet when he collided with her, causing them both to groan in pain as they sank back down to the floor.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," he apologized, pulling back in concern. His eyes were drawn to the oozing wound on her shoulder. "You're hurt," he gasped.

"I'm fine," she dismissed breathlessly. She raked her eyes over every miraculous inch of him, marveling like a lost traveler, stumbling upon an oasis after ages of trekking through sand.

Relatively, he was alright too, all in one piece at least, breathing, heart beating. Still it was clear that he'd been hurt. Blood caked the side of his face and she rose a hand to gently turn his head for a better look.

"It's not as bad as it looks," he promised softly. He placed his hand over hers, pushing his cheek against her palm and tears sprung to her eyes as she realized how much she'd been aching for this, how certain she'd been she'd never have it again.

It was only them now, the rest of the world was muffled blur, and she let out noise somewhere between a sob and a laugh as she wrapped her arms round him, nuzzling her tears into his neck.

"I thought I'd lost you," she whispered hoarsely. Her breath hitched and she felt him return her embrace gently, stroking her hair as she struggled to compose herself.

Tears rolled down her cheeks in great globs and she lot out a messy sob, pushing her face into him when his hand fell to rest on her others could see her falling apart but she couldn't stop it, it was like a river, sweeping her along, and she was too tired and sore to fight it.

"I'm sorry if I scared you," he murmured after a minute.

She snorted. "Scared me?" She leaned back, letting her hands fall to grip his shoulders and anger blazed through her relief. " _Scared me?_ Fitz I thought you were _dead._ " He winced, dropping his gaze but she knew he could feel hers boring into him. Her face was still streaked with tears but she was sure by his expression that it didn't take away from her ferocity. "You did more than _scare me_! You have no idea-"

"Yeah I think I do," he muttered and she stopped, knowing what he was talking about without either of them having to say it. He was thinking back, months ago, to the call he'd gotten in the middle of the night.

Jemma wanted to argue, to say that that was different, that that she was doing her job, that she'd put herself in danger for the greater good not just one life but she knew that was a lie. He'd only done exactly what she already had, and what she'd done again just now. What she'd always do.

She sighed, gentle now as she caught her fingers under his chin, slowly lifting it so that he'd look at her. "Please… don't do that to me again," she begged.

His eyes shone sadly, his head giving the smallest of shakes to let her know that he couldn't make such a promise, but he didn't speak, unable to agree but unable to disagree out loud. It was if she'd caught him in a loop he didn't know how to get out of so she shook her head, giving him a weak smile before carefully pulling him against her. He was warm, soft and solid at once, and the staggered rise and fall of his breathing told her that something was hurt but he didn't complain and she was careful not squeeze him as hard as she wanted to.

It seemed like a long time before they let go of each other, it was clear that both of them needed this and May and Will must have seen that because they left them alone, allowing them to take comfort in each other's presence for just a little while more before reality seeped back in.

Fitz was there with her, he was alive and, all together, they'd trapped the monster before she'd managed to hurt anyone else. It was better than anything she could have hoped for.

If only it was meant to last.

/-/-/

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was going to say I am putting this out on Fridays now, since it'll be my least hectic day, but just for this week it was Saturday because I went to see Captain America last night and that is one long movie XD (good but long) 
> 
> The lyrics are from Help I'm Alive by Metric. I decided to take on the literal meaning of the song rather than the metaphorical one for this XD


	10. I'm here for you baby  There's nothing I want more Our day is coming And we'll reach that peaceful shore

Jemma insisted on being the one to hold up Fitz as the walked back to the main lab, even though he'd tried to tell her to let one of the others do it, that she was bleeding and she shouldn't make it worse. She'd simply shaken her head, bright eyes as certain as he'd ever seen them, and in a single blink he'd understood, relenting to her demand.

May had tied a make-shift tourniquet around her wound, and for the most part the bleeding seemed to have stopped, but he still felt his eyes drawn back to it. That thing had had her in its jaws, the nightmare that had played out in his head for weeks resurrecting into terrifying reality. It could have killed her, it could have ripped out her throat, it could have done a hundred unthinkable things but by some miracle it hadn't and she was alive and so was he and they were together again, breathing the same air. He wondered if she was feeling the same way he was, if she were studying him the way he was studying her, charting each of her freckles, committing to memory the shape of her ears and the end of her nose, reveling in the sound of her voice and the feel of her body against his. From the way her eyes kept being pulled back to him he guessed she was. Or she was looking for signs of pain, signs that he needed to stop, but he wasn't going to stop until they were back with Daisy and Ward and she was where help could get to her. Even if the bleeding had stopped she needed someone to look at her poor arm as much as he needed to lay down.

While May continued to take up the rear, on guard even if the creature was locked away, Will fell into step beside them.

He nodded his head towards Jemma's wound, giving her a quick smile. "Thanks, for saving me."

"You were putting yourself on the line for us," she answered evenly. "I'm the one who should be thanking you." She craned her neck so she could see May behind them. "Both of you."

May nodded in acknowledgement, and Will gave her a small smile. Fitz, who was long used to Jemma talking about them as two parts of a whole, still felt a warm spark in his chest for what she'd said, and the same gratitude towards this stranger that she did. This man, who he'd know for only a day, had put himself in harm's way for them, and in turn Jemma had done the same for him. He was proud of her, as much as he wished she hadn't been hurt.

Will chuckled. "Well, I guess that's what got us out of this isn't it?" he mused.

"Altruism once again saves the day," Fitz wheezed, earning himself a concerned look from Jemma. "I'm fine," he assured her, though he doubted the words were all that convincing coming through his teeth.

" _No!"_ A sudden cry snapped the group's attention towards the lab. They were almost there now, the doors just down the hall. "No! Get off me! Get away!"

"Daisy." Jemma kept her voice low but Fitz could hear the sharp tension in her throat.

"But the monster is back there," Will whispered.

Jemma didn't look as if she'd heard him, her focus was on the source of her friend's distressed pleas and Fitz thought that she probably would have bolted by now if she wasn't worried about the rest of them.

"Shut up." It was Ward, his words coming out in a threatening growl that made Fitz's stomach sink and Jemma's skin turn from pale to ash.

"Get behind me." May was already moving as she spoke, putting herself between them and the threat before holding her gun out in front of her.

"If you shoot, I'll kill her." Ward's warning boomed out of the lab. Fitz realized he must have seen them on the security cameras.

The doors opened and he and Daisy shuffled into the hall, one of his arms around her neck in a chokehold while the other held a needle aimed at her throat. He motioned for May to put down her gun and, after only a moment's hesitation, she relinquished it, shooting daggers at him as she used her foot to slide it towards him.

Ward kicked it behind him, smug. "I could have used my gun," he told them, sounding almost amused. "But this seemed a little more poetic."

"It's the virus," Jemma muttered. Her jaw clenched, her eyes blazing with a hatred that could rival the sun. "Let her go," she snarled.

"Oh I will," Ward answered cooly. He tipped the needle towards Daisy's skin, an awful smile on his face when she tried to struggle away from it. "If you let me walk out of here with Delta Two."

"What?" Fitz spluttered. Why would anyone _want_ that thing? "What are you going to do with her? I hope you don't plan on trying to keep her as a pet. They don't sell alien monster care products at your run of the mill pet shop." He was rambling, he knew, but the longer he stalled the longer he and the others had a chance to think things through, find a way out.

"What could you possibly want with her?" Jemma demanded. "We need her Ward, all of us. You included." She tilted her head towards him challengingly. "What are you going to do when you get sick and there's no cure?"

Ward scoffed. "Do you think you're the only scientists in the world?" he jeered. "I bet it hasn't crossed your mind once that someone else could do your work." He shook his head. "Such arrogance Dr. Simmons."

Fitz bristled. Of course she thought someone else could do her work. Ward was dead wrong if he really thought Jemma believed that. She was brilliant and she knew it, and there was nothing wrong with that, but he was painting her as some self absorbed fool when she'd been keeping a backup list of scientists hidden in case she'd been killed risking her own life to find the cure. Jemma had been nothing short of extraordinary this whole time.

" _Anyone_ searching for a cure is going to need Delta Two," Jemma pressed, and Fitz wondered why she was still trying to use common sense on this idiot.

"And that's why I'm going to deliver her to the people who are going to do that," Ward told her. "For a price of course. Think of how much people would be willing to pay-"

"You want to exploit sick people for _money?"_ Daisy gasped. For a moment her disgust eclipsed her fear.

"Someone is always exploiting sick people for money," he reminded her gruffly. "Patents on cancer screening, treatments for childhood diseases that cost a small fortune. How else are the people making these things going to be paid?"

"We get paid here," Daisy reminded him. "This facility is funded by the government."

"Yeah but none of you are going to get rich off of it are you?" he pressed.

"You don't understand! We need to cooperate not compete with each other!" Jemma blurted. Couldn't he see this was bigger than any one person's greed? "This virus is going to wipe out the human race if we don't-"

"Not the ones who can pay," Ward sneered.

"Are the people who grow your food the ones who can pay?" Jemma demanded desperately. "The ones who drive the trucks? Keep the streets paved? Keep the power running? What will you do when they're all sick or dead? What will you do when people start bombing the company you're working for and the people who dismantle the bombs are too sick to come help you?" A chill ran through her as she thought of Fitz, but she didn't falter. "What will you do when the fighting starts? You have no idea what you're doing, selling her. Please Ward, stop this. Let Daisy go!"

"You're overestimating the problem," Ward objected.

"I think she's underplaying it actually," Fitz told him.

The other man regarded him the way someone would a humming mosquito. "Enough stalling," he barked. His arm squeezed around Daisy's throat until she squirmed uncomfortably, eyes flashing in terror. "Take me to Delta Two or I'll kill her."

"That'd be the last thing you ever did," May warned fiercely, but she remained where she was, paralyzed by the threat.

Out of the corner of his eye, Fitz could see a battle playing out in Jemma's head. He knew that she was willing to lay down her own life for this, that she believed what they were doing was more important than any one life, but Daisy was her friend. They'd been friends for years, helped each other through hard times, been side by side through the good times. Daisy would be Jemma's bride's maid at their wedding, would be their child's Godmother if they had one. Other than him, Daisy was her best friend, and she had her whole life ahead of her. Besides that, she was his friend too, and she was supposed to meet her father tomorrow. She hadn't asked for any of this, she hadn't even know what was happening everyday below her feet, and she shouldn't have to shoulder the consequences of it any more than Jemma should have to shoulder the consequences of another impossible decision.

Ward couldn't kill her. But he also couldn't get away with Delta Two. Fitz couldn't see any other way out of the situation and they were running out of time. He needed to act now, while Ward's attention was still on May.

His muscles tensed, ready to launch him between the virus and Daisy, but before he could Jemma had already leaped into action. In a blur, she pushed herself between Ward and Daisy, letting the needle tip push through her shirt and into her own skin rather than her friend's.

The sight of it made the world drop out from under his feet.

" _No!"_

She didn't make a sound as the needle went in. Ward did, his eyes flaring he let out a cry of rage, catching Jemma's arm as she and Daisy tried to squirm away and pressing down on her injury until she screamed.

Her pain bolted the others into action. Daisy was the first to reach him, biting his wrist to get him to let go of Jemma, which he did just before Fitz barrelled into him. He'd never been so angry with another human being in his life. He wanted to hurt him, maybe even kill him, for what he'd done and when Ward kicked his stomach and the pain made black spots cloud his vision, for a moment he hated _himself_ for not being able to do it.

The bigger man flipped him onto his back, pressing down on his throat until he couldn't breathe. Fitz clawed at his wrists, desperate for air, but he was relentless.

A gun cocked beside them. "Let him go," May growled.

The pressure on his throat disappeared and he sucked in mouthfulls of air hungrily. Heart hammering against his chest, he looked up to see Ward had gotten to his feet, raising his hands above his head.

"You're not going to shoot me," he taunted.

May narrowed her eyes, pausing for a long few seconds before giving a slight shrug of her shoulders. "No," she told him. "But he's going to hit you."

Fitz was struggling to sit up, and he caught sight of Will behind him just as Ward's eyebrows knit together in confusion. Before he could turn around, Will brought down a bar onto the back of his head and with a loud _crack,_ he crumpled to the floor.

May stared down coldly. "Lock him up," she ordered.

Will and Daisy moved towards the unconscious Ward, but Fitz's priorities had shifted. His eyes sought out Jemma and he found her sitting curled up against a far corner, tears in her eyes as she clutched her arm to her chest.

When he stepped towards her head snapped up. "D-don't," she warned shakily. She swallowed, the blood draining from her face but she spoke again she was firm. "Stay back."

He came to a stop a couple of feet away from her, kneeling slowly until he was sitting on the floor. "You're not contagious yet," he told her softly. "It hasn't had time to multiply, there's just a bit in your blood…"

She cast her gaze to her knees, miserable. "I can't risk infecting you too," she mumbled.

"You won't," he promised.

Her lips quivered but she remained silent, watching her hands twist together. Even from as far as he was, he could see she was trembling.

"Please," he whispered. _Please let me hold you._

At last she looked up and their eyes met, hers desperate and his pleading, and they both knew without having to say it that this might be their last chance to touch. She sucked in a shaky breath, nodding slightly before her eyes closed, squeezing tears out of their corners. It was all the invitation he needed to rush forward so he could bundle her up against him.

She pushed face into his chest, her watery words muffled into it. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he soothed. His arms came up around her in a vain attempt to shield her. It was too late, he was too late, but he didn't know what else to do. "Don't be sorry, you were so brave."

"I r-ruined everything," she squeaked.

"No." He shook his head, bringing up his hand to run through her hair. "No, don't say that. You didn't. You did everything right. You saved Daisy, you stopped Ward. No one died today and that's because of you."

She sniffed, her fingers bunching the fabric of his shirt, but she didn't reply.

"And you're not going to either, you're going to find a way to fix this," he added firmly. "I know you will." _You have to._

Her head turned so that her ear was over his heart and he looked down to see her close her eyes, heard her let out a deep breath. She didn't move for several seconds and he didn't push her to agree, holding her quietly as she sorted through it.

At last they fluttered open, almost black under the fluorescent light and shining with determination. "I'll try," she whispered.

"And I'll be there," he promised. "For whatever you need."

A shudder passed through her and he felt his own eyes grow hot with tears. He shuffled his arms, clutching her as tightly as he could without hurting them and dreading the moment he'd need to let go.

_Please don't let it be the last time. Please. Please let her find a way to fix this._

He didn't know who he was talking too. He didn't believe in a higher power, he didn't pray, not since he was a boy, but he couldn't help it now. He didn't know or care who was listening, he just need to make the words in his head, say them over and over until they were true.

_Please let her be OK._

_/-/-/_

**2 Weeks Later**

The sight of Jemma through the walls of the quarantine room tore at his heart. She was so pale, even through the wall of plastic that separated them he could hear the struggle for every breath, and now that she was finally lying down it hit him how small she'd gotten.

It had been the longest two weeks of his life, watching her deteriorate, helpless to stop it, unable to do much more than provide moral support and the occasional assistance. This was completely out of his field, there wasn't much help he could provide. It was a battle she had to face on her own, long hours in the lab weighing down on her increasing exhaustion until even the oxygen tank wasn't enough to keep her on her feet he almost found himself begging her to stop.

She couldn't stop though, if she stopped she wouldn't find the cure and if she didn't find the cure she'd die.

So he'd go in with her, wearing a suit to keep him safe, and under her careful instructions he'd do the manual work she was too weak to do. They had a few other people working on a cure by now, of course they did, but no one else was willing to go in there with her and risk infection like he was. Fitz hardly thought about that. If she died, he did too, so what did it matter?

He rarely left her alone, as useless as he was he couldn't bare leaving her side, but when he did it was for her. To find someone she needed, to pick up something from the front desk. They'd let her stay in the bunker, allowed her the lab and Delta Two once they'd seen her research. He wasn't sure if she'd face any legal charges for what she'd done, no one had said anything yet, but right then it didn't seem to matter. He didn't have the energy for it to matter, all that mattered was finding the cure. That was their life, fixing this.

But it wasn't all darkness, he couldn't let it be, not when it could be the end of it all. So his second job was keeping the light on. In the precious moments when she wasn't working or sleeping, he made it his mission keep her spirits up. He'd tell stories, tell her jokes as they played cards or sipped tea, separated in body but not in soul. When she was losing hold on her hope, he'd list every good thing in their favour until she saw it glimmer again.

She was brave too, so brave, and she didn't let herself give up either. He saw her swallow down her doubt more times than he wished to count, saw her pick herself up even when her arms trembled.

Sometimes he put on the hazmat suit just to come in with her, to be close to her. She never approved but he was persistent when he saw she needed it.

And sometimes, only when he was certain she was asleep, he let himself break down. On what was probably the worst night of his life, after she'd taken a turn for the worse and her work had hit a snag that she couldn't seem to tear away from, he'd left her sleeping alone for the first time since she'd gotten sick.

He'd gone to the bathroom, locking the door behind him even though they were the only two left in the building, and sank to the floor, dropping his face into his knees. Once again, he'd sent a plea out to the universe, to whoever or whatever was out there, to stop this, bawling until he felt like he was going to throw up.

_Please don't let her die. Please, please, please don't let her die._

He'd said the words out loud, though they hardly sounded like words when he croaked them out, and they didn't make him feel any better.

Now she was finished, at long last, what they could only hope was the cure. She'd injected herself an hour ago and all either of them had left to do was wait.

She was scared, he knew she was. He knew she was confident in what she'd created, but he also knew she had doubts that it'd work on someone already so far gone. This was her last chance, if it didn't make her better, he wasn't sure she was going to make it long enough to try again. Her fight was over, and now she could only wait.

But she wasn't going to wait alone.

/-/-/

Jemma heard the door hiss open but she didn't have the energy to lift her head. Fitz would understand, he'd know her lack of greeting wasn't because she wasn't happy to see him. She'd never tell him, never _encourage it,_ but as much as she hated it when he came in in the hazmat suit she felt safer when he did. When he was with her, the icy fear that seemed to have a death grip over her heart retreated just a little.

She was scared, so scared, all the time now and even though she was nearly certain the cure was going to work, she was terrified that it was too late to work on _her._ She was too far along, too weak. She'd never take back what she'd done, Daisy was alive and they were going to have a cure for the disease that was threatening to wipe out most of humanity, but she wished more than anything that she hadn't had to do it.

If only she hadn't put her trust in Raina, the woman she'd found out later had double crossed her, working with Ward to try to steal Delta Two. If only she'd thought of the solution sooner, if only she'd realized Ward had been a traitor before they'd left him with Daisy. If only, if only, if only she'd done something differently maybe she wouldn't be dying now.

She cried, at night when she knew Fitz was asleep, biting down on the blanket to stop herself from crying out and waking him up. She didn't want him to see her like that, didn't want to hurt him more than he already was. The future she was leaving behind was more than she could bear to lose, but her consolation was that the rest of the world had one, that Fitz had one, and that kept her strong. She had to make sure he stayed strong too.

Her body was so worn down, senses dulled, that when he took her hand it was a few seconds before she realized it was his skin and not the rubber of the suit.

"Fitz…" she whispered. _No. What was he doing?_

Her eyes fluttered open and she saw his face, looked into his eyes without a sheet of plastic veiling them for the first time in weeks.

"Fitz…"

"Shhh," he urged, and she saw on his cheeks that he'd been crying. "It's OK, you fixed it. I'll be safe."

Would he be? He was placing an awful lot of faith in her. What if she was wrong? What if she'd messed something up?

The mattress creaked as he crawled in beside her, curling up against her side and taking her hand in both of his. She turned her head, fighting to keep her eyes open. He wasn't leaving, she knew that nothing she could say would make him go now, and she didn't want him to.

He was right, he was safe. She was sure of it, she'd found the cure. They were all safe. She was sure of it…..

She curled her fingers around his as tightly as she could. "I love you," she wheezed. Her mask muffled her already distorted voice, but it didn't matter, he understood.

His lips brushed her forehead and her eyes fell shut. "I love you too," he whispered. "Now sleep OK? You need to rest. I'll… I'll see you when you wake up."

_When I wake up._

With his hand in hers, and his scent hanging over her, she let her body have the sleep it had been begging her for.

' _It's going to be OK,'_ she thought blearily. ' _Fitz is here and it's going to be OK…"_

/-/-/

It was five in the morning when her fever broke. The lights had turned off for the night cycle and without windows the only light in the room was from the machines that monitored her vitals. They were enough for her to see Fitz, still sleeping beside her, when she opened her eyes.

Already her chest felt lighter, her limbs less like iron weights, and she knew that it was working, that she was healing. A smile stretched across her face, relief and gratitude like a gust of fresh air. She pulled the mask off, testing how she did without it, and found she wasn't dizzy from breathing the normal air again. She didn't need the oxygen, her fever had broken, she was going to be OK.

Fitz was curled close to her, laying on his side and clutching her hand like a lifeline. His tears had left streaks on his cheeks and his skin was grey and dull. She'd always liked the way he looked sleeping, happy, peaceful, but he was neither of those things right now. Even unconscious, his misery was painted across his face.

She brushed his cheek with the tips of her fingers, whispering his name to wake him up, and his eyes blinked open right away, as if he'd only been half sleeping.

At first he seemed alarmed, perhaps worried she'd woken him because she couldn't breathe, but as his eyes focused on her expression a smile lit his face.

"You're feeling better?" he guessed, a note of desperation in his voice. He was afraid to believe to it if it weren't true.

She coughed, wincing at her body's poor choice of timing. "I'm f-" she wheezed. Another cough, and she felt him sit up. "I am," she told him clearly. His eyes were round with concern, but she smiled at him, shaking her head. "Fitz it's working," she pressed. "My fever is gone, feel."

Her hand found his and she pulled it down, pressing his palm against her forehead and watching his eyes widen in surprise. Then he was feeling every part of her face, her cheeks, her neck, her ears, looking her over as if he couldn't quite believe it until he saw it with his own eyes.

At last she took his hands, holding them over her heart as she stared up at him. "It's working," she repeated.

His body visibly relaxed, his eyes closing as he dropped his head to touch their foreheads together, nuzzling her nose before laying back down to curl around her.

"Thank God," he breathed. "I thought… I almost thought…" He trailed off, unable to finish what he'd started to say and she pecked a kiss between his eyes.

"Me too," she mumbled. "But it worked…. Fitz...It _worked…_." She laughed, giddy with relief, overjoyed that she was still there, breathing, holding onto the man she loved.

She laughed until Fitz started laughing too, the pair of them giggling together like kids with a secret before her laughter turned into coughing and breathing became a priority again.

_I'm not going to die. I did it. It worked!_

"You shouldn't let me cough all over you," she warned, after this second bout died down.

He squirmed closer, brushing a crusty strand of hair away from her face. "I'm not going anywhere."

And he didn't. They were allowed to keep each other. She lived, got stronger, went back to work. It took a year and a half but she and a small army of dedicated people eradicated the virus from the face of the Earth. No charges were laid against her, she didn't become a criminal but instead became a household name when she was nominated for- and won- the Nobel Prize in Medicine She shared the moment with her family and friends who sat in the front row to watch her receive the award. For years after that, Fitz would tell anyone who'd listen that she'd won it saving the world. And she'd always follow up reminding him that she hadn't done it alone.

Delta Two was destroyed but nine of her embryos were kept in storage at the CDC in case future research was needed.

Daisy met with her father and, slowly, let him into her life. He was proud of his daughter, just as Jemma knew he would be, and they remained close for the rest of his life.

When things had settled down, and VPE showed no signs of ever coming back, she and Fitz decided to take a year to see the world. Almost having it crumble had left her with a hunger to explore every inch of it and even though they both knew it was impossible, hand in hand, they gave it their best shot.

Fitz proposed to her near the end of the trip, in Perthshire of all places, decorating the little cottage they'd rented while she was out shopping and surprising her with one of the most beautiful speeches she'd ever heard (which she'd let him finish even though she'd wanted to shout out _yes_ the moment he'd opened his mouth). She decided that day that she liked Perthshire very much.

The woman who'd risked her life to save the world and the man who'd risked his to save her, lived the rest of their days in well deserved peace and happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I did really debate whether or not to kill Will, since this IS a monster story and there tends to be at least one death in those, but I decided to go the "not today!" route with it because poor Jemma has enough weighing down on her and Will should have at least one universe where he doesn't end up as monster meat right? 
> 
> I am not going to pretend to know much about how/why people get awarded Nobel Prizes, but damn it she saved the world, she's getting a prize. 
> 
> Can you get sick from someone very recently infected? I actually don't know, but I'd suggest not trying it at home.
> 
> The lyrics are from Trust Me by Amanda Marshall


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